


Beautiful Disaster

by Shayz



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Reality, Betting Pool, Challenge Response, Crack, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Het, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mature Situations, Sexual Tension, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayz/pseuds/Shayz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new woman enters Ronon's life who has all other men running for cover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came out of the The Klutz Challenge issued by Scifigirl1 on RDFever back in 2006. Requirements were: _A new woman enters Ronon's life that has all other men running for cover. OFC is petite in height, looks completely harmless, non-military, language specialist, a total klutz around men, causes accidents to happen to them. She shot a Wraith in the groin, accidentally, TeamShep saw it happen (before Ronon's time), she's a klutz around alien males as well. She has caused several mishaps to happen to Mckay. A betting pool on the OFC. She must always have bodyguards when she goes off world because the Wraith she shot has her on his most wanted list. Ronon with his great reflexes is able to avoid the accidents the OFC causes. Because of this Weir & Sheppard decide to make Ronon her body guard whenever she has to go off world. **QUESTIONS TO ANSWER** : What incentives does Weir have to offer to try and get male soldiers to volunteer for this duty? Why is the OFC a klutz around men?_

 

 

**_WARNING: this fic is rated NC-17...if you are not an adult, turn back now. Thank you._ **

  


 

**Starring:** Ronon Dex, John Sheppard, Elizabeth Weir, Rodney McKay, Carson Beckett

**Introducing:** Dr. Alessa D’Angelos (OFC)

  

*1*

They cannot make it back to the gate. Not now. Not with the wounds so deep, the blood oozing, leaving a trail. They will have to make camp, here, in this cave.

It is dark, too dark. He can barely see toward the mouth of the tunnel. The forest trees block out any light from the sky. But it is warm and well hidden within the forest. Luckily there is a small pool of water fed from a hole in the ceiling; he can hear the trickling even if he cannot see the sweet reward.

The ambush came fast and hard. They were at the ruins with the rest of his team. Sheppard, McKay and Teyla…Ronon hopes they made it back to the gate safely. He should have seen it coming, but he did not.

He was distracted, watching her work, watching her hair graze the round cheeks of her face, tickle her slightly pointed chin. Seeing her look up and catch him staring, enjoying the blush that follows whenever he smiles at her. He should have been doing his job. He is her bodyguard, not her mate. Not her match in anyway possible.

“Ronon?” The softest voice in the universe sends a thrill down his spine and makes his heartbeat lurch. He never thought he could love such a voice; so delicate and womanly, not a warrior by any sense. It is so quiet; it does not even bounce off the cave walls.

“Still here,” he tells her.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighs, holding back tears. She is afraid and she has every reason to be. They came for her. They found her…somehow they had managed to tag her the last time.

_Looks like they have some new toys._

Beckett never suspected; no one did. “I’m so sorry. So sorry,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. But she does not give in. She does not cry. Refusing to be seen as weak. She is stronger than anyone has given her credit for…even herself.

Something else he loves about her.

_Loves? How is it possible to love someone who is so unlike yourself? To want to trade your life for them in an instant, without hesitation simply because you want them to go on…even if it means without you by their side?_

“It’s all my fault.”

Ronon presses his hand to the wound and groans as the shudder of pain echoes through his body. “No! Never say that.”

“But—”

“No,” he says again. “They have their ways. You could not have known…”

“…should’ve…” her voice is beyond soft, he almost could not hear her. “We’re not going…to get away…are we…?”

Ronon’s eyes settle on the pile of dirty scraps of cloth on the ground at his side. The blood will draw animals, he is sure of it. And if the animals find them, then so shall the Wraith. It is only a matter of time.

“Yes. We will,” he lies. “I will not let them have you, Alessa. You belong with me.” That part he means with his whole heart.

_How is it possible to feel so strongly for someone…you have known less than a month?_

 

** ~ 6 weeks ago ~ **

Ronon and Sheppard were nearly plowed over by the diminutive, but curvaceous female doctor with the short dark hair reminiscent of Sateda’s moonless pitch night sky. He had yet to see her face after all these weeks of near misses simply because she is at least a foot shorter and usually keeping her eyes downcast. But he would never forget the one time that hair swept across his arm in passing. He could not recall ever feeling something so soft against his skin. He wondered if the rest of her was just as soft.

As usual, the woman was rushing away from some raucous noise in her wake. This time it came from the mess hall. “Colonel, Specialist Dex,” she sputtered in a whisper-soft voice, not looking at either of them as she passed.

Ronon managed to get out of her way, but she bumped into Sheppard. He grunted in discomfort and his face screwed up tight, turning red. “Man…I gotta start wearing a cup around that woman,” he huffed, folding at the waist and resting his fisted hands on his knees as he took deep breaths.

Ronon’s eyes followed the doctor: her hands tightly wadded by her thighs, arms straight and legs stiff; though, her well-rounded bottom swished as she hurried down the corridor and out of sight. Ronon always enjoyed that in a woman. Too many of the Earth females boasted hard muscle or taught skin over bone. So few looked like what he knew females of Sateda to be: tender flesh and blood, aching for a man’s hands to pleasure them all over. Bodies healthy, full and ready to create new life.

“Five-foot-four inches and 130 pounds of natural disaster,” Sheppard groaned. “That’s for sure.”

“Seems harmless enough to me,” Ronon said. Sheppard glared at him.

The noise and commotion from the mess hall pulled both of them forward, Ronon making it to the door before Sheppard. Chaos reigned in the large room filled with people tripping over each other as they slipped and slid across the floor, trays and dishes clattered out of hands, chairs overturned and tables pushed out of the standard alignment. “Guess you were right,” he told Sheppard. The Colonel wrinkled his brows, still taking deep breaths. Ronon pointed to the floor. “Mash potato day.”

Stackhouse and Beckett were doing their best to drag McKay out of the room as he shouted over the rest of the din. “She tried to kill me!”

“It was an accident Rodney. Now calm down…did it hit you in the face?”

“Of course it did, I can’t see anything! And my tongue. My tongue is swelling up…I can feel it.”

Ronon swiped a hand across McKay’s face, digging mash potatoes out of the man’s eyes. “That better?”

He blinked, blue eyes framed by white mash. “Actually…yes, thank you,” he grumbled. “But what about my tongue?”

“Seems to be working, unfortunately,” Ronon said.

Sheppard found his voice, unusually high-pitched for a moment. “What...” He cleared his throat, then tried again in a deeper timbre, “What happened?”

“She tried to kill me!” McKay yelled again.

“She did not, Rodney,” Beckett said. “Now shut up. You’re not dying from what I can see. You may hyperventilate and pass out though, so calm down already.” Beckett shook his head sadly at Sheppard. “Dr. D’Angelos, did you see her?”

He pointed toward the corridor. “She went that way.”

“Of course she did. Escaping the scene of the crime!”

“She didn’t squirt you on purpose. Now stop before I decide to give you a really big shot of something just for the fun of it.”

McKay, face caked with white potatoes, let his mouth drop open and his eyes widen in shock. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would hold you down,” Ronon offered.

Stackhouse struggled to stifle a chuckle. “She was just having some iced tea and squirted some lemon in it as Dr. McKay happened to be walking by.”

“Just happened…I was standing right next to her having a conversation with Dr. Nileson. Right next to her!”

“Seems the lemon hit him and he stumbled back in a panic--” Beckett added.

“Of course I panicked. Even the tiniest amount of citrus can kill me! Don’t people get that? I’m a dead man!”

“Let me guess,” Sheppard waved a hand toward the chaos. “You created this mess in your urgent get-away.”

Stackhouse’s grin increased. “He bumped into a group and they all splattered and collapsed into a heap. It went downhill fast from there.”

 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Ronon pulls out his gun and sets it to the highest level. “It is the only way to keep us safe until Sheppard can send a rescue,” he tells her.

“We can make it to the gate…I know it.”

“No…it is too dangerous. Too far. I…cannot protect you like this. We need the others to help us.”

“They’ll come for us?”

“Yes!”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Okay. I trust you.” She smiles at him and he wants to kiss her more than anything right then, but he knows it would be wrong. He would frighten her.

He should have said something to Sheppard. Been removed from the job. But he could not abide the thought of not spending as much time as possible around her. In the short time he has known Alessa, his physical cravings have not ebbed, but something else has taken hold. Something deeper.

All he can do now is keep her safe. They will not have her, no matter what happens. He made her that vow in the forest less than an hour ago. He will not leave her in their hands.

From his position on the ground, Ronon lines up his aim and takes the shot. It misses…going out the mouth of the cave and bursting onto a tree, igniting a line of sight right into their hide-out. He curses, growls.

Alessa giggles softly. “Wanna give me the gun?”

Ronon coughs a chuckle. “No.” Then he re-aims. He has to hit it just right to bring down the mouth of the cave but not collapse the whole cavern on top of them. The second shot impacts correctly and the rumble of falling rocks deafens them. Alessa cries out as dirt and debris falls around them, blacking out the cavern completely.

 

** ~ 5 weeks ago ~ **

Ronon found Sheppard in the infirmary with the three doctors: Beckett, McKay and the one with the strange name he simply calls Z. McKay lay on a bed, unconscious, a bandage wrapped around his head. Ronon looked to Sheppard and gave him a nod. “Lab is clean now.”

Sheppard nodded in return. “Good. Thanks.” He turned to Beckett. “So…this is what? Number 3?”

“No, four.”

“Four?” Z’s eyebrows shot up. “What was three?”

“Well,” Beckett raised a finger. “The first time they bumped heads in the corridor outside Rodney’s lab.” Beckett laughed. “That lass has a good head on her shoulders if she can knock him out cold.” He cleared his throat when Sheppard did not react with humor. He held up another finger: “Next was that time on the puddle jumper…”

“Right,” Sheppard said. “The thing on her braid hit him in the eye when she spun around too fast. He tripped over his pack and smacked the bulk head.”

“Aye,” Beckett sighed. “Poor lass felt so guilty she cut off her hair.” He made a face. “Lass had some lovely hair, I tell ya. Smooth as silk and straight as the day is long.”

Sheppard wagged a finger, “Didn’t some of it get sucked into one of the vents and start that fire…”

“And cause city to shutdown,” Z nodded. “Labs locked down. Rodney didn’t make it to door in time, hit it face first. Almost broke his nose.” Z chuckled at the memory then quickly removed his glasses to clean them.

Sheppard laughed. “Damn that girl’s got it in for him.”

“Do you really think so, Colonel?” Beckett asked.

Sheppard patted the doctor’s back. “Either that or she’s got a massive crush and this is just her way of showing it.”

“Couldn’t she just punch him in the arm then?”

McKay groaned. “Don’t give her any ideas. Plain Calamity Jane’ll probably miss and hit me in the head instead.”

“You’re awake!” Z called, making McKay wince and shut his eyes tight.

“Yeah, I’m awake. What the hell happened now?”

Beckett moved in to check on McKay. “Dr. D’Angelos is really beside herself this time.”

“Yeah, yeah…she spilled my coffee.”

“Actually, Rodney, you spilled coffee,” Z started.

“After she bumped into me.”

Z crossed his arms and shook his head. “Not exactly. You yelled at her, she bumped into Dr. Morgan and _she_ hit your elbow. _You_ spilled coffee.”

“That doesn’t make it any less her fault.”

“She tried to help you clean it up. You stepped on her hand and when she cried out, you back up so quickly, you slip on your spilled coffee and hit desk with your big fat head.”

“It’s official. She’s a menace, she’s a…keep her away from me…get her out of my lab before she kills me.” He glared at Z. “And my head is not fat!”

Beckett pressed a blue pack to the back of McKay’s head and the man howled. Then he glared at Beckett. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Rodney.”

“Face it McKay,” Sheppard said. “It could’ve been worse.”

“Worse?!”

“Remember what she did to that Wraith on M4W-059--”

“She got tasered in the back.”

“Before that. After you went down and she picked up your gun?”

“And saved your life,” Beckett added.

McKay covered his crotch protectively. “You’re not giving her another gun are you?”

Sheppard chuckled, shaking his head.

 

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Ronon coughs as he waves a hand through the dust and debris floating above his face. He cannot even see his hand, but searching out fresh air to breathe is a natural instinct and one he does not fight. “Alessa?”

“Still here,” she says with a giggle that rolls into a stifled cough.

Ronon searches out her hand, grasping it in the dark and giving it a gentle squeeze. She squeezes in return, not a solid grip, but he did not expect one.

She is soft and pliable, not unfit, but not muscular. “I like my burgers and French fries,” she told him recently while they had lunch. For someone so small in stature, she can eat a lot. “It’s the Italian blood,” she said. “Mama always warned me I had the D’Angelos family empty-pit of a stomach. Which, undoubtedly, leads to the big ass.”

Ronon could not decide if he was supposed to agree with her or not. He has seen her posterior on several occasions. Enjoyed the way it sways as she walks. Wondered how it would feel cupped in his hands… He never found it disproportionate to her size, but she seemed so certain of the notion he was unsure if he should dissuade her. After the meal, he felt the need to inform her of his own observations. She grinned at him and placed her warm hand to his cheek. “You are so sweet. But a lousy liar.” And then she was gone.

Her skin felt as wonderful as her hair had previously and he nearly went into shock. One delicate touch of her hand to his cheek and she could rule him; he knew it then as he knows it now. He wants to touch her all over, simply run his hands over her body, tenderly caressing her flesh with his lips and his tongue and bring her to the ultimate pleasure as he luxuriates in the smoothness of her skin.

As much as his need drives him, as much as he wants it, Ronon knows he will not get the chance to do such things. Not to Alessa. He can give her everything he has in him, but he can never take from her.

“She has issues,” Sheppard said recently. When Ronon tried to get more information, Sheppard swore he did not have any to give. “It only makes sense, Ronon. The way she is around men…the nervousness, the jumpy behavior.” He nodded, mostly to himself. “Chick’s got issues.” And apparently that was enough of an answer to satisfy Sheppard. He had no interest in learning more about Alessa. Quite a few people around Atlantis behave the same way.

But not Ronon. Since that warm palm on his cheek, he has only been blessed with a quick touch of her hand on his arm or a trace of his fingers across her neck or over her clothed shoulder as he guided her away from danger while she walked with her head buried in data. He has taken those stolen moments and created his night dreams from them to relieve his ever growing attraction...and the tension it leaves behind.

She does not know.

She would not believe him if he told her.

 

** ~ 4 weeks ago ~ **

Ronon caught her walking down the corridor studying a data pad; she turned toward a door, but bumped into the wall next to it instead. Ronon suppressed a laugh. She grumbled something in a different language, it sounded like what Dr. Z speaks sometimes. Then her head slowly turned to catch him staring. “You’re welcome,” she said quietly.

Ronon crossed his arms and studied her for a moment. The large black rimmed glasses hid her face well, but underneath he could see lovely dark brown eyes framed by thick brows and her lips were the same color as Dr. Weir’s uniform shirt, though it seemed a natural color. “For what?” he asked after a long pause.

She sighed heavily as she stepped to the side and the door opened before her. “The amusement factor. Everyone gets to enjoy PCJ.”

“PCJ?”

“Plain Calamity Jane.”

“Who is…Jane?”

She stared at him in what could only be described as wonder for the briefest moment then offered a tight smile as she disappeared into the lab. Ronon dropped his arms, clasping his hands behind his back and continued on his way, wondering about the dark-haired doctor…why did she have such a sad smile? And…who is Jane?

He saw her later the same day, eating alone in the mess hall, her eyes buried in her data pad once again. Occasionally she glanced up when she heard someone laugh but if anyone caught her gaze on them, she would drop it to the data again. Figuring she chose this solitude, Ronon went about his business and grabbed his food then sat alone as he liked as well.

Sheppard came in some time later, grabbed his tray of food, stopped by many of the tables to speak with the small groups, mostly the ones with women at them. Sheppard has a weakness for women, that much is clear. However, he avoided her table, as if he did not see her at all.

But she saw him. Her eyes followed him as he moved from group to group, laughing with the others, making small talk as he calls it. And even from the distance of two tables, Ronon saw the same sadness he had seen earlier. The longing to be included…and the pain of being invisible.

She caught Ronon staring and quickly gathered her things and left…her food only half eaten.

 

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

He stemmed the flow of blood. Finally. Now all Ronon has to worry about is infection… but he will not mention it. He releases her hand.

“Ronon?”

“Need water.”

“I can get it.”

“Stay. I know where it is.” Grabbing up a few of the strips of clothing, he slowly eases toward the sound of the running water. It is cool and refreshing as he sinks his hands into it. He pulls the cloths free and rings them out over the ground as to not sully their water, then soaks them again. He repeats this until he is sure they are as clean as possible then soaks them one last time. “Talk to me,” he says.

“What?”

“Talk to me. So I can follow your voice.”

“Oh…umm…what should I say?”

Ronon chuckles as he cautiously makes his way over. “Anything. Who is Jane?”

“Oh that,” she grumbles. “You’d think with four names to choose from they’d be able to come up with something a little more imaginative.”

“Four names?”

“Five including my last name.”

“Why do you have five names?”

“Me Mama, grandmamma and great-grandmamma. It’s an Italian thing.”

Ronon takes up his spot right by her side. He leans against the cavern wall; the rock is cool against his bared skin. “What are all your names?” Even though he has found her, he still cannot see her and wants to hear her voice. He needs to hear her voice.

“Alessandra Calogera Sienna Antonia D’Angelos…Doctor, of course. That is the most important part for me familia. The first doctor in the bunch. They do not care what kind of doctor…the title is what matters. You can understand why I chose to shorten my name, though?”

“Yes.” He carefully presses one of the soaked cloths to the shoulder wound, hoping the cold water is full of helpful things and not infectious ones. Again the pain shoots through him, but he has to do this. “So you are Jane…as well?”

“Not just Jane…Plain Calamity Jane. It’s an important distinction.” Her voice is suddenly callous and Ronon wishes he had not brought up the topic. “Plain because…well, let’s face facts, I’m no beauty queen…no one’s going to war over this face.” There is pain in her voice but she tries to hide it with a giggle. “Calamity means something that brings great loss or destruction… Jane just happens to fit with both of them,” she finishes quietly. After a heavy sigh, she giggles through what he assumes are held in tears. “I actually prefer Jello. At least it comes in a variety of colors and yummy flavors. Some people even consider it dessert.”

“Is that why the military men call you Jello? Dessert?”

He can feel her shake her head. “My last name…D’An- _gelos_. Though, I’m guessing is has more to do with my big, wiggly ass,” she laughs.

“It is not—”

Her voice cracks. “Perhaps not for your eyes, Ronon.” She takes a deep breath and it hisses through her teeth. “But Earth men have… certain criteria when it comes to judging women.” She hisses again. “And they’re not always kind.”

 

** ~ 3 weeks ago ~ **

“Nothing’s impossible, Elizabeth,” Sheppard said as he rose from the chair and slid sideways onto Dr. Weir’s desk. The look on his face was pure predator to prey. But Dr. Weir was not anyone’s prey. At least not today.

She tilted her head and raised her brows. The denial in her eyes made Sheppard blanch and Ronon chuckle. Though she spoke often and with authority, sometimes the leader of Atlantis did not need words to get her point across.

Sheppard started to press further when the alarms sounded. Ronon turned from his post at the door and strode over to the gate controller. He could feel Sheppard and Dr. Weir following him even as he caught the movement from the corner of his eyes.

“Atlantis Team Two, Dr. Weir. It’s Major Lorne’s IDC.” Chuck, the technician sitting behind all three of them said. “Radio transmission.”

“Let’s hear it,” Dr. Weir ordered.

“Atlantis, this is Lorne. We’re coming in hot. Lower the shield on my count.” Sheppard and Ronon raced down the steps to cover the incoming team if necessary.

“Tac-team one to gate room, A-sap!” Sheppard called over his radio. Several more soldiers showed up, guns ready.

Dr. Weir tapped her headset. “Acknowledged Major, ready when you are.”

A short countdown followed and the shield came down. A split second later, Dr. D’Angelos stumbled through the open wormhole just out of range of a laser blast that skimmed between Sheppard and Ronon and hit the stairs; her body over-rotated forward, probably from someone pushing her through the Stargate and she fell flat onto her belly, sliding a couple feet. Her glasses flew off her face and skidded across the floor.

Even as she tried to get purchase with her hands and feet and get out of the way, AT-2 rushed in, all four facing the gate, firing on unseen attackers and not looking where they were going. One at a time — though it happened so quickly it was impossible to know who went down first — they tripped and fell onto and over Dr. D’Angelos, still firing their weapons. Bullets tore into the ceiling, more bounced off the gate igniting sparks. And as the shield came back up, even more bullets ricocheted back into the gate room. Everyone took cover immediately. Too late for Lorne, however, as one of the ricochets ripped through his arm, spraying blood; he shouted a harsh: “Fuck!”

From underneath the tangled mess of military limbs, Dr. D’Angelos managed to dislodge herself from the men and crawl out on her hands and knees. With her head down, she did not notice Ronon right in front of her and bumped her head into his knee.

“Ow…” she rubbed her head and looked up.

For the first time, Ronon got to see quite a bit of her; her open collar dipped, exposing the wondrous creamy womanly flesh usually hidden from view, ready to burst from her undergarment. But he tore his gaze away so he could finally see her face, minus the mask of glasses. The lovely shape reminded him of the recent holiday Sheppard had been so happy about celebrating. Valentine’s Day. The cards and decorations around the city had the same fullness at the cheeks tapering to a point on the bottom… ‘hearts’ if he recalled correctly.

Sheppard managed to receive numerous gifts from various females on that day and was quite difficult to be around for some time. Ronon also received some interesting gifts…the ever coveted chocolate and several cards that stated ‘Be Mine’ though none of them had names written inside. It confused him that so many females would ask him to pledge himself to them without giving a name. Sheppard remarked that it might not have been a female after all, which only left Ronon further confused.

That same night, it was the late night visit to his quarters by one of the military women that managed to scratch his seven year itch. Her forwardness brought out the animal in him; they impacted the wall, the floor and each other’s bodies at such a velocity they both ended up bruised in various places. Not that he would complain. Captain Sacks had been more than willing to kiss and suck those bruises the very next night when she returned. And he had reciprocated eagerly. He could still remember the feel of her taught breasts in his mouth, the heft of her buttocks in his hands as he shoved her into that same wall again. Her muscular legs wrapped around him with amazing strength, the feel of her surrounding him as he took the plunge, sating himself within her body over and over throughout that night.

But he did not hold her attention following that second encounter. Not that he had expected to. He was _her_ itch that needed scratching. And truth be told, even after seven years, Ronon longed for something more than a mere scratch.

Dr. D’Angelos’ dark eyes widened considerably and her face paled as he continued to stare at her. He smiled and a deep blush rushed through her skin from beneath the collar to her hair line. Ronon held up her glasses. Then she smiled with gratitude and he could hear his heart thumping in his ears. That had to be the most amazing smile. Not like the sad ones he had seen previously or the ones he received from other females here on Atlantis; those had something dark in them, something needy and hungry. They wanted to take from him.

He was not above the ‘flirting’ that Sheppard so clearly enjoyed -- especially with Dr. Weir, someone Ronon believed clearly off-limits given the looks Sheppard had for the leader -- and he had no problem following through with such actions should the opportunity arise…which had been frequently following that Valentine’s Day.

The Athosian brew flowed in abundance for sometime afterward, leaving many of the Earth women open to seduction…though it seemed he was the one seduced most of the time. Not that it took much convincing. A warm body, a hungry kiss and Ronon would take the lead. Flesh pounding against flesh, moans stifled by his mouth, and screams of ecstasy at his prowess were pleasurable experiences and served a purpose.

After a while, however, the faces started blending together. Their hard bodies were all the same. Even the way they smelled after he had taken them left him wanting. He could not remember one from the next.

“Thanks,” Dr. D’Angelos had said in the same quiet voice he had come to expect. Once again lowering her face, she shoved the glasses in place, hiding herself then backing away from him, only to bump right into Lorne as he checked his flesh wound.

“Fuck!” He hissed, this time adding a deep growl. She spun away from him so fast she stumbled into Wilcox, Lorne's 2nd, kicking his ankle with the heel of her boot. Curses flew through the air as swiftly as the bullets had moments ago.

Dr. D’Angelos threw up her hands. “Sorry. I’m so sorry!” She tried to help the man with the injured leg but he waved her off, rather harshly in Ronon’s opinion.

All this took place in mere moments. Only long enough for Dr. Weir to rush down the stairs and join them. Dr. D’Angelos turned, already on her way up the stairs when Dr. Weir called over her shoulder: “Infirmary.”

The young scientist quickly changed direction and rushed down the corridor leading to the medical lab. “Yes, Dr. Weir.” A moment later, another _whump_ and a curse followed, then more: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Dr. Weir and Sheppard shook their heads as they turned to Lorne and his men. “What the hell happened? I thought that planet was friendly.”

“I heard the alarm,” McKay called as he rushed in from another direction and took up space next to Sheppard. “What’s going on…?”

Eyes flitted to McKay but then rested on Lorne again. “Everything was fine, sir, until Jello spoke up.”

“Major!”

Lorne squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Sorry Ma’am. Once Dr. D’Angelos started chatting with one of the locals, we had nothing but problems.”

“Hey, he’s bleeding,” McKay said, sounding rather pleased.

“Thanks McKay, we didn’t notice that,” Sheppard glared then turned back to Lorne. “Granted, she’s a linguist, but what could she possibly have done to cause a fire fight?”

“I don’t know, sir. All I know is we were at the ruins when the head clan came with food and water. Dr. D’Angelos was neck deep in deciphering the script and refused to come over to greet the clan for several minutes. She kept waving us off. Saying “in a minute, in a minute”. Apparently that’s not a nice phrase or something because the lead guy -- Hypner -- got all stiff and started going off in his language…real angry. That’s when she came out and got into some sort of debate with the guy.”

Dr. Weir covered her eyes. “Don’t tell me.”

“Okaaay.”

“Tell me,” Sheppard said.

“One minute they’re standing there arguing or whatever -- lots of gesturing -- and the next, the guy’s windmilling his arms, tripping over backward and lands on his butt…right in the food the others were laying out on a blanket. Everyone fell into each other.”

“She didn’t…push him…”

“Not that I saw ma’am…but you know Je…” he cleared his throat. “Dr. D’Angelos really doesn’t need to _do_ anything for…stuff to happen.” He motioned to his bleeding arm.

Sheppard waved. “Yeah…infirmary.”

Lorne took a step toward the corridor then looked back. “What if she’s still in there?”

“Just go!”

“Yes sir.” Lorne and his team trudged away, grumbling that they’d take their time, possibly use the scenic route.

“Well,” Dr. Weir sighed. “That’s another team down. I highly doubt they’ll be willing to go out with her again.”

“Pay up!” McKay grinned at Sheppard’s back.

Sheppard spun on him. “What?”

“I called it. I win the pool.”

“Rodney!”

“What? Elizabeth, it’s good for morale to have a little game play. Besides,” he shrugged. “I never win.”

“And you still didn’t,” Sheppard hissed. Before McKay could respond, he added. “No one died, McKay.”

“Lorne was shot.”

“By friendly fire…and he’ll live…you win nothing.”

Grumbling about working with twelve year-olds, Dr. Weir stomped up the stairs to her office. “What are we going to do now? I’m open for suggestions.” Before McKay said anything, she held up a stiff finger. “And not about another betting pool.”

Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck as he followed. “I’m all for locking her in her lab or quarters.”

“Colonel!”

“I know. I know. She’s the best linguist we have unless Dr. Jackson shows up. But if she’s pissing off the locals we’ve just made agreements with—”

“Seventeen languages…not counting Ancient which she picked up in less than a month. Her skills are unmatched when it comes to meeting other cultures. Whatever happened out there…I want her side of the story before pointing fingers. Without her help, I doubt we’ll ever decipher the location of that ZPM. She’s the one who found the gate addresses listed on the ruins of M4X-882 in the first place. She’s the one who figured out the Ancients were playing a damned crazy game of hide-n-seek! We need her in the field, Colonel. Not stuck in some room twiddling her thumbs.”

“Especially since that could probably get someone killed,” McKay added.

“Not funny,” Dr. Weir glared.

Sheppard sighed. “Well…it’s kinda funny.” Dr. Weir glared at him too, he blanched: “All right. I’m thinking.”

“What is the problem?” Ronon’s question seemed to startle Sheppard and the man did a double-take.

“We need to get you a bell or something.” With a shrug, he added: “Dr. D’Angelos needs to be guarded at all times when off-world.”

“Why?”

“Remember that Wraith attack I told you about…before you got here?” Ronon nodded. “Well, she maimed the guy…but didn’t kill him, unfortunately…and he really wants payback.”

“Wraith do not care about revenge…they want food.”

“Yeah, well…this guy’s pretty pissed. She shot his dick off—” Dr. Weir raised her brow at Sheppard. “Sorry ‘lizbeth. Anyway, I think he’s looking for a nice long interrogation with the good doctor. So he can do some maiming of his own.”

The thought of that lovely woman being in the hands of a torturous Wraith made Ronon’s blood curdle. He could already see that heart-face twisted with pain, those luminous eyes wide with fear, those lush red lips parted in a scream.

 _No._ He shook the images from his head.

Dr. Weir led the way into her office. “I guess we could ask for volunteers? Try to come up with some sort of incentive that’ll get them interested.”

“Like what? Extra popcorn on movie night?” McKay chuckled.

“Don’t you have an elsewhere to be, McKay?” Sheppard asked.

“Nope.”

Dr. Weir turned to them as she approached her desk. A slight shine lit her eyes. “How ‘bout three days on the mainland. Or another vacation planet?”

“After their injuries heal, you mean,” Sheppard said.

“She’s not dangerous, John.”

“Four concussions,” McKay pointed to his head.

“She broke my finger,” Sheppard whined over McKay. Ronon recalled seeing Sheppard wandering around the city for a couple of weeks with the middle finger of his left hand bound in a white splint and sticking straight up, making everyone from Earth laugh whenever he raised his hand and folded down his other fingers.

“That wasn’t her fault. You were…”

“I was walking, Elizabeth. Just walking.”

“As was I,” McKay added. “The first time, anyway.”

“She came around the corner and slammed right into me and we both went down. Then she stepped on my hand when trying to get up.”

“I remember. I was there.” She sighed heavily as she sank into her chair. “Well, what about AT-3, Stackhouse’s team?”

Sheppard shook his head. “Radner would rather have rabies shots. He’s still not over getting stuck in a cast for six weeks with a fractured femur. Stackhouse is a good kid, but the scalding hot coffee didn’t exactly leave him with a smile on his face whenever she’s around.”

“OK, AT-4 or 5, then? Garrison or Levens?”

“Back spasms from going down that flight of stairs and broken wrist, same incident.”

“Daniels?”

“Still pissed about the head injury.”

“Ahhh…so I’m not the only one?” Off Dr. Weir’s searing glare, McKay rolled his eyes and huffed. “Face it, Elizabeth. No one will work with her. No one wants to be in the line of fire. Not even Zelenka will spend time with her. And he’s got this insane crush on the woman. But…she _is_ dangerous.”

“She’s a scientist, Rodney, not a plague on humanity. She just happens to be a little…”

“Klutzy?” Sheppard offered.

Dr. Weir nodded side to side. “To say the least.”

“Please,” McKay squeaked. “She’s the poster child for Murphy’s Law. You won’t find a single man in this entire city she hasn’t nearly killed. And she’s only been here…six months.”

“Why is it only men?” Ronon asked from his perch at the doorway.

“What?” All three turned to him.

“This doctor. Why does she only injure men?”

“Oh…she hasn’t…” Dr. Weir said. “She put Laura, Sharon and Heather in the infirmary too.”

Unfamiliar with the first names, Ronon looked to Sheppard for help. “Cadman, Maddog and Nickels.”

 _Ahhh Nickels._  A flash of short blond hair and a heated, high-pitched rapturous keening in time with his powerful thrusts played through his memory. He smiled briefly then let the image pass. “They are on different teams. True?”

Dr. Weir nodded. “And each team had three men who also ended up in the infirmary, though in decidedly worse shape.” She raised her brows and glanced at Sheppard. “He might have a point. Maybe she needs to talk to Heightmeyer.”

Sheppard shrugged.

“She can take down a whole team with…accidents?” Ronon held in a chuckle. “Are you sure she is not working for the Wraith?”

“She’s a klutz.” Sheppard said. “Trips, falls, bumps, walks into doors…”

“Manages to lock the men’s communal shower while they’re in there and shuts off all the hot water in the process,” McKay said.

Sheppard shook his head. “There’s no proof it was her, McKay. It was a fluke. A random chain of events.”

“That started when she fell into the power control board on level W5. You heard the clamor as much as I did. They all thought she did it.”

Ronon vaguely remembered hearing the many male voices combine into a single shout: “JELLO!”

“I get the feeling she gets blamed for much more than she is responsible,” Dr. Weir said, leaning back in her chair and templing her fingers. “And what _does_ happen in her vicinity…it’s not on purpose.”

“And your military cannot out maneuver this one woman because…?”

Sheppard scrunched his face. “She kinda sneaks up on ya.”

Ronon believed it had less to do with stealthy behavior than invisibility. Yes, she is quiet and unassuming in stature, not a threat by any means, but that also seemed to create an illusion for others that she does not exist in their world. Inconsequential. “Then that is the fault of your personnel and military training…not Dr. D’Angelos.”

Sheppard started to protest; he waved a finger in the air and his mouth opened then closed as a slow smile spread across his face. He looked to Dr. Weir and she raised her brows then leaned forward clasping her hands on her desk.

“He might just have another point,” Sheppard said finally.

“He very well could,” Elizabeth agreed.

They both turned to stare at him with matching, wicked grins.

“What?”

Dr. Weir’s brows arched as they had earlier with Sheppard.

“I think we’ve found our volunteer,” Sheppard said firmly.

“What?”

Dr. Weir tilted her head, Ronon noticed she did this whenever trying to get Sheppard to do something she knew he would protest doing; and at that moment, she was doing it to Ronon. The hairs on the back of his neck started to tickle. “We could really use your…agility,” she glanced at Sheppard and he added: “quick reflexes”; Dr. Weir nodded: “and superior fighting skills…in this matter.”

Ronon glowered. “You want me to babysit this doctor.”

“Baby-sit…noooo,” Sheppard drew out. “Guard. Be her personal bodyguard whenever she’s off-world.” He tapped Ronon’s shoulder. “You’re the only one I know who can do it. And do it right.”

“We had a saying on Sateda, Sheppard. Your breath smells of beast droppings.”

Dr. Weir chuckled behind her hand and Sheppard grinned. “Is that a yes?”

“If only to prove that I am correct about your inadequate personnel training and that Dr. D’Angelos is not the menace McKay clearly wants her to be.”

He kept the main reason to himself, however. Spending time with Dr. D’Angelos could only bring him more of those alluring, tender smiles and endearing blushes. Not to forget a possible view at that ample bosom again.

“Great, then let’s go introduce you to your new charge.”

As they were about to leave the office, Dr. D’Angelos popped in, Ronon side-stepped quickly, but she slammed into Sheppard who backed into Dr. Weir, stomping hard on her foot. Dr. Weir cried out.

“Oh crap…I’m so sorry…” Dr. D’Angelos muttered in that hushed voice. Ronon could clearly hear it cracking with emotion. And from the glimpse he got of her eyes, he could see she’d been crying recently.

Ronon’s ire surged. _Who made her cry?_ He wanted to rip the arms off anyone who would cause this woman pain. And yet…he did not even know her.

Dr. Weir huffed about her foot, hopping toward the sofa as Sheppard came to her aid, both of them ignoring the lady doctor waving a paper in her hand. Ronon caught sight of McKay’s satisfied grin as he watched the whole thing from the other side of the room.

Dr. D’Angelos sniffed and shoved the paper at Ronon before rushing off. He glanced at it. “Uh…Dr. Weir?”

“Mmm?” She whimpered, still trying to get her shoe off the offended foot.

“What does…resignation mean?”

“It means: throw it away!” She hissed. “I don’t accept it.”

“Elizabeth,” McKay started, but she shut him down with a flash of fire-hot green eyes.

Sheppard glanced over his shoulder at Ronon. “Well…what are you waiting for…go after her.”

“You said off-world.”

“You know at this point, I’m thinking she might need a guard 24/7.”

“28,” Dr. Weir corrected with a grunt.

“You know what I mean.”

Ronon already stepped out of the office when McKay said: “You realize, she’s gonna get him killed…right?”

“Shut up, Rodney!” Dr. Weir hollered only to whimper in a small, tight voice a moment later. “I think you broke my baby toe, John.”

 

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Ronon scrounges through his pack, feeling for the glow rods Sheppard showed him how to use when they first went out on missions together. It took forever to find the pack in the darkened cave even though he dropped it in a specific spot so that he could find it easily. Unfortunately, they lost Dr. D’Angelos’ pack back at the ruins.

He should have four glow sticks, each with enough energy for twelve hours of light. Now that the cave is sealed and they are relatively safe from their hunters, he pulls out one of the sticks and cracks it at the center then shakes it vigorously. A muted green glow lights up the cavern.

“Wow,” Alessa gasps. “That’s beautiful,” she whispers, looking at the ceiling.

Ronon’s gaze follows. The light ignited something in the rocks above, like a spattering of green and gold starlight in a night sky. He looks at Alessa. She has a wondrous, innocent look on her face. His heart breaks when she shifts and pain shoots through her features.

“Alessa?”

“I’m all right…just a twinge.”

Not believing her, he moves to her side and lifts her shirt. Blood already soaked through the bandage, leaving an ever bigger stain seeping into her trousers. Digging through the bag, he searches for more bandages… nothing. He has no choice. “I need more cloth,” he tells her softly.

Alessa gives him a warm smile, though perspiration on her upper lip and the tremble in her body tell him the smile is a comforting lie. She talks as he works, probably to keep her mind off his actions. “Guess McKay will win his bet after all,” she sighs as Ronon cuts off her shirt, leaving only her undergarment to cover her.

“No.” The swell of her breasts trapped beneath the thin material should send him into a fit of carnal lust, but her words have the opposite effect.

She coughs a chuckle, only to wince again. “Hey.” She lifts his chin so she can look him in the eyes. “At least I didn’t get _you_ killed.”

“You are not going to die, Alessa. I told you.” He carefully unzips her pants and peels down the left side, exposing the wound.

Her hand falls away weakly. “You’re a strong man, Ronon…but even you can’t defeat death.”

He grips her hand and pulls it to his lips. “Together…we can.”

She stares at him with those rich-colored eyes. “You could have made it to the gate without me.” Her fingers curl around his. “You should have.”

“I will not leave you.”

Breath shudders through her body. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me, Specialist Dex…but I do thank you.” Her eyelids grow heavy and start to close.

Ronon picks up one of the cold soaked cloths and dabs her face with it. “Stay awake, Alessa. Stay with me.”

“So…tired.”

“Talk to me again.”

She sighs. “’bout what?” Her words are slurred and eyes fully closed but he has not lost her yet.

“Why did you resign that day? Why did you want to leave Atlantis?”

She rolls her head toward him, toward the coolness of the cloth and opens her eyes. Her gaze is muted, glassy. “Nobody wanted me there.”

“I did.”

“Yeah…well…we’ve already established there’s something wrong with you,” she chuckles only to cry out when he presses the cloth to her belly.

 

 

** ~ 3 weeks ago ~ **

Dr. Carson Beckett gave her the once over and declared her fit as a fiddle. He patted her knee, probably expecting her to hop off the gurney and rush from the infirmary. But she couldn’t move. “I think I made a really bad decision today, Carson.”

“How so, lass?”

She grunted. “I got a marriage proposal…sort of anyway—”

“Really? You’ve been seeing someone, luv? You never mentioned—”

“I’m not seeing anyone. Besides my Duracell buddy.”

“You’re not going to tell me your little mechanical friend proposed, are ya? ‘cause if that’s the case, we’ll be needing to get Dr. Heightmeyer down here.”

She grinned, grateful for his easy going nature. Carson was one of the truest people she’d ever met, and a good friend. Pretty much the only man she felt comfortable around. “On the planet…you goofball. Today. Before all the crap started hitting the fan.” She dropped her gaze to her hands as she twisted them together. “It’s why the crap hit the fan.”

Carson lifted her chin with a gentle finger. “Tell me what happened.”

She shrugged. “I turned him down. My one chance at ever getting a guy to even look at me and I turned him down. Granted he was an alien…with really, _really_ bad breath and horrible manners and really only wanted me because his current apparently gorgeous wife is being coveted by other tribes…at least that’s the gist I got.”

“Hold on there—”

“He said he knew I’d bare him many off-spring because of my…” She motioned to her hips. “Lets just say he was less than pleasant about my Italian inheritance.” 

“You are in perfect health, my dear. Don’t even start on that issue again. I’ve told you a thousand times, you are not overweight.”

“I’m pudgy.”

“You’re voluptuous.”

“Meaty.” He was about to retort when she waved a hand. “Though I do pride myself on the flat tummy and non-wobbly arms.”

“There you go, be positive. And you do have fabulous legs, lass…of course, I’m saying that not only as your doctor, but as a member of the male gender. Nice gams.”

A blush burn through her cheeks. “Anyway…after that he said the minute he met me the first time, he knew I would be perfect for him…because I’d never be coveted by any other tribe. No one would look upon my face that way.” She flipped her hand again. “I’m paraphrasing of course.” Useless, hot and annoying tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she dropped her eyes from his.

“Bloody well hope you decked him but good.” She shook her head, defeated.

Carson wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her into his office. He sat her down on the comfy sofa away from prying eyes and handed her a tissue. As she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, he turned to his desk and pulled out a bottle and two glasses. “I keep this for emergencies,” he told her as he poured some Scotch into the tumblers. “It’s the good stuff, lass. Drink up.” She hesitated, catching his bright blue, compassionate eyes. “Doctor’s orders, luv.” Then he smiled, those dimples getting the best of her.

“So, is that what started the melee? You turned him down?”

She sipped more scotch, shaking her head again. “I’m afraid I let my tongue get away from me. I was just so mad. I mean, I’ve accepted who I am…at least on Earth I had. I didn’t have any expectations for anything other than a career…maybe a dog…a couple of cats…” she shrugged. “But this…man…really pissed me off. Who the hell was he to say that I’m nothing special to look at? He lives in a dung-made hovel! What he really needs is a mirror!”

“Exactly right…and you are…”

“Please, Carson.” He was a love and a comfort, but he couldn’t change the mind of a thirty-two year old woman who lived at least half that time with a plain sight reminder of a teenage disease; not to forget a lifetime of five beauty pageant winning sisters bracketing her in age and Alessa being ‘the smart one’ to family and friends.

“So what did your wayward tongue say to the blind, bloody alien?”

“If I tell you…you can’t tell Dr. Weir.” He nodded consent. “I told him I wasn’t a woman and couldn’t give him heirs.”

“Lass…”

“Yeah, he didn’t buy it either. So I…gave him…um… a detailed description of a hermaphrodite.” She sucked in her lips and nodded.

Carson gaped. “You what?” He started laughing as she continued.

“Well, it’s not exactly an easy translation…but their language was a derivative of Ancient so I muddled through with a few other words.” She raised her eyes to his again and grinned wickedly. “I told him it was probably bigger than his…then I asked him if he wanted to touch it.”

He was nearly doubled over with laughter. “That was a risky maneuver…so he touched you? Found out you were lying through your teeth?”

“No, well…yeah, that _is_ when all hell broke loose, but he didn’t try to verify my…um…claim.”

“Thank Heaven.”

“Apparently, he’d brought warriors to take me by force if I was unwilling or if Lorne’s team resisted my abduction -- as if,” she grunted. “He fell into the others screaming that I was something akin to a devil and that I should be killed immediately.” She shrugged again. The scotch already started to do its job and she felt a flush of relief and warmth wash over her. “So we ran.”

Tears from laughter flashed in the medical doctor’s eyes, making her feel a lot better about what she’d done so she laughed too. They both stopped abruptly when they heard Lorne call out from the front of the infirmary. Alessa sank into the sofa, clutching her glass in both hands. “I don’t want to see them.”

Carson patted her knee as he rose. “Not a problem, my dear. You stay here. Enjoy your medicine. I’ll take care of the lads. They’ll be right as rain and gone soon enough.”

It didn’t take long for the men to start ripping into her. No matter how hard Carson tried to stop them, they didn’t want to listen. They overlapped each other, laughing as they spoke, not once noticing when she slid off the sofa and stared at them through the window in Carson's office. 

They mentioned how all the men were afraid to be near her…though _they_ were grateful to have something soft to land on when they fell in the gate room. They made fun of her glasses -- assuming that might be the problem, but one of them drew another conclusion…something closer to the truth: she used the glasses to hide her scarred face.

The splotchy, telltale discoloring on her cheeks and forehead forced on her from years of battling acne…something she’d been embarrassed about her whole life and had no luck in fading no matter what she tried, once again became the bane of her existence. Not even make-up helped to cover the spots, so she hid as best she could. And yes, she was grateful her skin was smooth and pock free, but the reddish-brown hyper-pigmentation didn’t make looking in the mirror any easier. The large framed glasses came in handy. In fact, she had twenty-twenty vision…she didn’t need them for any other reason.

“And that annoying, fake Marilyn Monroe put-on of a voice. Who does she think she’s kidding?” Wilcox said.

“That’s enough!” Carson bellowed. She’d never heard the doctor so angry before. It even shocked her into attention.

“It’s okay, Dr. Beckett,” Alessa said, leaning against the door jam of his office, arms folded in front, eyes blurred with booze and tears. The Scotch worked, giving her enough false bravado to make it through the next couple of minutes. All five men turned to her, four of them looking decidedly guilty and the fifth one having nothing but compassion for her. That made it hurt all the more. The pity stare. “I have something to say as well.”

Swallowing her tears, Alessa walked ever so slowly toward them. She stopped in front of Major Lorne. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. She hadn’t heard his voice adding to the cruelty, but he hadn’t put a stop to it either. Suppose it could be because of the gunshot wound…but his face burned red anyway. She cleared her throat and the sound made him look up. He must’ve seen the hurt in her face—she was never good at hiding her emotions—because he flinched. “Thank you…for saving my life today.”

Lorne’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

She turned and took in each of the men, though the other three refused to look at her. “I thank all of you. And you can rest assured that none of you…or your comrades will ever have to do it again.” She looked back at Lorne. His wide eyes narrowed as if she’d just threatened them. “You’re free of my reign of terror and my annoying—” her throat tightened painfully but she couldn’t help it. “—fake voice.” Tears dripped from her eyes, she couldn’t stop them by that point and she really didn’t care anymore. She smiled at Lorne and he looked as if she just slapped him. Shaking her head, she moved quickly for the door. “Be safe, gentlemen…I wish you well.”

Before the doors closed behind her, she heard Lorne: “Ow! Doc!”

“So sorry, lad…did that hurt ya?” Carson growled with fake concern.

Covering her mouth the keep back the sobs, Alessa ran to her quarters and let the door slide shut before she sank to the floor and cried.

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hermaphrodite: An individual having the reproductive organs and many of the secondary sex characteristics of both sexes (Source: WordNet ® 2.0, © 2003 Princeton University)


	6. Chapter 6

“They will feel pain when we return,” Ronon growls. “I will punish them all for saying such things.”

Her head lolls away. “Don’t bother. They just needed to blow off steam. Besides, nothing they said was false…well, except for the voice thing.”

“Everything they said of you is untrue, Alessa. I see you. I know what is truth. They cannot comprehend what is right before their eyes.” He grips her chin and turns her head toward him; a bit roughly because she whimpers. “Hear me, woman.”

Her eyes snap open; still glossy and unfocused, but open. “Did you just call me ‘woman’?”

“Yes.”

She smiles weakly and rolls her eyes. “Please…don’t start talking in Ebonics…it’s the one language I never could pick up. Harder than pig-latin.” She chuckles only to wince in pain a moment later.

He touches her smooth, damp cheek with the back of his hand. She is on fire. The wounds must be infected. The stab wound on her left side went in at an angle and though it did not penetrate through her back she likely has damage to internal organs, hence the blood loss and the Wraith weapon was surely unclean.

The other wound is of his making. He hates himself for having marred her velvety flesh, but there had not been a choice. The tracker lodged in her shoulder would have led the Wraith straight to them. As it had already brought them to the planet to find her.

Different than the one put in his back seven years ago: smaller, undetectable by Lantean technology, he only found it because the device could elicit a shock straight into the prey’s body, at which point, it lit up under the skin like a strike of lightning.

The moment the Wraith arrived at the ruins, they activated the device and Alessa collapsed in mid-run for the gate, her body arching awkwardly, painfully. Because of that, the Wraith knew she was the one they wanted.

Sheppard, Teyla and McKay covered them as Ronon picked up Alessa and ran for the forest. They did not get very far before another jolt went through her body and he nearly lost his hold on her. The worst part…he could tell she was conscious and aware of all the pain being inflicted on her…but she could not scream.

They settled near a large tree and Ronon questioned about the pain. She could only nod slightly or blink, so he kept his questions to yes or no answers. It took several minutes but she managed to indicate the pain started in her back. Ronon did not have time to struggle her out of her jacket and shirt so he turned her around and slit them down the center with one of his blades.

He could see flashes of white hair within the trees, searching for them. They did not have much time, but there were no tell-tale signs of anything under her translucent skin. Ronon could not help the thrill that passed through him at seeing her so uncovered. He carefully smoothed his rough palm over her bared flesh, trying to locate the tracker. He did his best to ignore the amazing texture of her skin or the scent that wafted into him and set his body afire.

And then it happened. Blue light under the tissue at her right shoulder. Her body arched and the breath left her in a heavy gasp as she stiffened with agony. Ronon gripped her face, forcing her to see him. “I found it. I have to cut it out. You understand?”

She had no control over her body at that point. No nods or blinking; only her eyes on his could tell him anything. After only a few weeks of knowing her, however, Ronon was sure she was giving him her consent. He turned her around and stared at his blade hovering over her tender body. His hand shook, but he tightened his grip and willed it into action.

He could not let them have her.

Never.

Ronon cut deep but not long; half a finger length. There was no sound from her. He knew she wanted to cry out, but she had no control. Using the tip of his knife, he dug the tracker out, cutting it free from the bloody tissue. The moment the Wraith creation was free of her, the light on it went out.

And then she screamed.

And the Wraith found them.

They were ambushed in the trees. Three Wraith came from different directions. Not the warriors with stunners and no faces, the other ones…the hunters. Ronon could hear Sheppard yelling in his ear piece that they were heading for the gate; but he could not take the moment to respond and request back up. He fired at the first two Wraith, hitting one in the face and taking it down immediately.

Ronon unsheathed his sword after laying an unconscious Alessa on the ground at his feet. The Wraith came at him from two sides. He decapitated one only to swing around and catch the other holding some kind of staff. The Wraith hissed and spat as they fought. They were equally matched, unfortunately. This Wraith was strong in mind and skill. Ronon wondered if it was the same Wraith Alessa had wounded previously. That would explain the drive to retrieve her.

In the end, however, Ronon had the advantage of endurance as well as strength. The Wraith lunged and Ronon dodged as he ran his sword through the creature’s gut.

“Huh…” he heard behind him, only to turn and see Alessa equally impaled by the Wraith’s staff. She had obviously just risen to her feet, using the tree trunk as leverage, before being stabbed. As the Wraith fell away from Ronon’s sword, his grip on the staff remained strong and he pulled it out of Alessa.

She touched the wound then lifted her hands to look at them; they were sticky with blood. She looked to Ronon with the oddest expression. “This really sucks,” she muttered as she dropped to her knees. Ronon caught her before she could fall any further.

 

** ~ 3 weeks ago ~ **

Chuck gave Ronon the location of Dr. D’Angelos’ quarters and he went directly there. He could hear movement on the other side of the door so he knocked. It took a few moments before the door opened.

Dr. D’Angelos stood before him — without her glasses — her eyes at his chest slowly rose to meet his; making his breath catch before she spun away to continue her task. “Specialist Dex. I assume Dr. Weir sent you to help get me out of here as soon as possible.”

“You assume incorrectly,” he said. Ronon crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame to keep the door from closing. “Dr. Weir did not accept your...resignation.” Seeing the mess in the room and the frantic pace with which Dr. D’Angelos packed, Ronon finally understood the word. She wished to leave Atlantis…be removed from her position here.

“What?” She stopped moving and stared at the floor. “She can’t do that.”

Ronon shrugged. “She is the leader. She can do as she pleases.” That got him a quick glance over a shoulder. “She wishes you to stay,” he added with sincerity.

Her brows cinched together. “Why?”

“She believes you are invaluable.”

Dr. D’Angelos dropped heavily onto the edge of her bed, her hands full of clothing. “She said that?” Ronon grunted an affirmative. She looked at him again; this time longer. “So…what are you doing here?”

“I am your bodyguard.”

Her tired eyes dropped from his and she sighed wearily. “I don’t need a bodyguard…everyone else does…to keep them safe from me.”

“You are not the problem, Dr. D’Angelos.”

“You obviously haven’t been paying much attention, Specialist Dex.”

“I see more than others, I believe.” Her eyes caught his again and that wonder he saw previously returned; as did the clench in his throat. He had never seen such luminous dark eyes with everything exposed. He had no doubt that this woman could never lie. The truth of her would always be in her eyes.

She seemed ready to say something but closed her mouth tight, those thick lips pressing together as if to keep her tongue inside. Ronon desperately wanted to press his lips to hers and persuade that tongue free from restraint. He wanted to push her back onto the bed and roam his hands over her body, eliciting gasps of pleasure to replace the sadness in her voice and eyes.

If it had been any other Earth female, he would not have hesitated in making his intentions clear. But Ronon felt there was something about Dr. D’Angelos that would not accept such actions. At times she reminded him of a frightened child in need of protection.

And that was exactly the course he had been assigned to take.

Ronon took the break in conversation to come into her room. He pulled the chair away from the desk and sat in it directly in front of her so that they would be eye-level. If she was offended by his boldness, she did not make a sign. “Dr. D’Angelos. I understand you are a vital member of the Lanteans. Your work is very important to finding a ZPM—”

“I’m sure someone else—”

“Dr. Weir does not believe anyone else will.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, in effect moving closer to her. “Are you the type of person to leave a mission unfinished?” Her eyes darted to lock with his again and once again she looked as if she might speak, but held back. He took that to be the answer he wanted. “So, you are now under my protection.”

Her brows creased and eyes narrowed. “Umm…” she cleared her throat. “W..what does that entail…exactly?”

Ronon stood up and replaced the chair in its proper location. “Wherever you venture, I will follow.”

“Umm…you mean…off-world…right?”

He turned back to her and smiled. “I believe my presence may be required more often.”

“But you have duties—”

He waved a hand. “AT-1 is not scheduled for off-world trips until Teyla is fully healed.”

“How…how is she doing?”

“From Col. Sheppard’s description, she is… ‘oozing from both ends’…whatever that means. Dr. Beckett believes she is contagious and is not permitted visitors other than medical staff. I have not seen her.”

She grimaced. “Stomach flu really sucks.” She stood up then and dropped the clothes in her hands onto the bed in a heap. “Guess I’ll need to clean up in here.” She glanced at him. “I won’t be needing any protection tonight, Specialist Dex,” she said with a small grin.

“Okay. Then I will see you tomorrow, first thing. Do not leave your quarters without me.” He palmed the crystals and the door slid open. “One more thing, Dr. D’Angelos.”

“Yes?”

“My name is Ronon. I respond well to it.” He grinned again and she blushed but smiled in return.

“Right…” When he did not leave right away, she looked at him quizzically. “Oh…ahhh…” she offered her hand. “Alessa. I mean…you can call me…Alessa.”

Ronon smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I am here to serve…Alessa.” She blushed again but did not pull her hand away as he feared she might. It smelled of fruit mixed with something spicy. He wished he had more time to enjoy the scent. Ronon released her hand then left her to the clean up her belongings.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

“Ronon? I need…something…to write on,” Alessa says, her voice no more than a whisper.

“You need to remain still and rest. The others will be coming soon.” It has to be nearing a couple hours since they took refuge in the cave. Surely Sheppard and the rest of the team have returned and are searching for them. The Wraith should have given up by now.

“It’s…important,” she spits out the last word, wincing instantly. Tears slip over her temples, without notice. “The translation,” she sighs. “I left my book at the ruins.”

“If it is still there, we will retrieve it in due time.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I didn’t…get to finish… my entry.”

“You will have time. Later. Rest now.”

“D…don’t give…me that shit, Dex!” For someone with a voice as quiet as the wind, Alessa can curse like any Marine in Atlantis…and make it sound just as threatening. “I’m…I’m not going…to get another…chance.”

Ronon leans over her. He holds her face in both hands and stares into her eyes. “You will not give up, Alessa. You will stay with me. Now and forever…you understand.” 

She tries to shake her head but cannot because he holds it steady. Her eyes open wide in confusion. “No,” she gasps.

Ronon knows she does not. She cannot. Even after spending every day together for the past three weeks, she has no idea through what torture he has been living.

He picked her up at her door in the morning, followed her around within inches of her body so that he could instantly reach out and grab her shoulders to steer her clear of imminent catastrophe — which happened more often then not, actually. She became nervous and anxiety sparked off her in waves whenever a male member of the team came within a few feet of her — strangely, though, she did not have this reaction with Ronon; not even for a brief second. He followed in her wake or even by her side and never once did he get the impression she felt nervous around him…it made him wonder.

Others gave them a wide berth, not that Alessa noticed; she barely noticed Ronon when busy with work. Other than Dr. Weir, he had never seen someone so dedicated. Alessa rarely took time to sleep. Though she did eat…often, which he enjoyed watching to no end.

They shared meals in silence. Something Ronon relished. Since coming to Atlantis, he found himself bombarded with people talking. Not simply passing along information, but incessantly chattering about non-consequential topics; things of little importance to anyone except the person making the statement. Sheppard did this on occasion; going on about football for some reason Ronon could not grasp. Even the women he took to his bed always wanted to ‘talk’ afterward, though he found ways to protect himself from that problem… usually by putting their mouths and his to better uses, leaving them too exhausted for conversation.

With Alessa, he could enjoy his meal while studying her as she ate. After the first couple of times, he noticed her shoulders relax and her posture improve. During each repast he would choose something to concentrate his attention on: her lips, her neck, the curve of her breasts under the uniform; it gave him something to think about at night when his dreams would undoubtedly be occupied with her image.

He has made love to her countless times in his mind. Not the mindless fucking he has actually done with other women in the city, not just taking for the sake of his own pleasure… and not only at night while sleeping.

He had always been good at watching without showing his interest, something he learned to hone as a runner. Sometimes as he studied her, his mind would fill with his lustful thoughts and he would be there again, sharing delirious heights of pleasure…loving her with every part of his body.

If she knew his thoughts, if she felt his eyes on her; she would not have been able to hide that knowledge from him. He felt secure in his watching. It was part of his job, after all.

He found her hands fascinating: small palms with long fingers tapered to short, clipped nails, always clean and supple. When off-world at a ruin, those delicate hands would caress the stones in such a way that left him panting with want. She would run the fingers of her left hand over the inscriptions as she wrote into her journal with the right. When she typed on her laptop, it was a flurry of movement and clicks that had his attention rapt until he forced himself to look away. When she used the pen on the data pad, she would thoughtlessly spin and twist it around her fingers with such dexterity it astonished him; she inevitably brought the stylus to her mouth and tapped it against her full bottom lip. It was during those times that Ronon’s restraint was pushed to the limit.

No one noticed the draw she had on him…mostly because no one noticed her. Ronon still could not wrap his mind around their blindness.

The elegant sway of her neck when she stretched it after several hours in one position called to him. He longed to rub his thumbs over the muscles and ease any tension that built up during the day. And though not tall, her long, shapely legs begged for his attention; he caught sight of them early one morning when she had been running late and opened the door to him while still dressed in bed-shorts and shirt. His heart pounded as if he had just run a marathon, wishing those legs were at that moment clenched around his waist in the heat of passion.

Her mind riveted him. Ronon did not understand how she could do so many things at one time, but he always saw her mind working…through her eyes. Even when having a conversation, she would not be distracted but she would be busy with something: a decryption or translation, or something else he could not comprehend. He watched and listened, every day growing more attached to her.

When others would laugh or talk around them, she would look up but that loneliness he witnessed before had disappeared. In fact, if something amused her, she would smile at Ronon and they would share a silent communication about it: a raised brow or wink from him would often send her into quiet giggles.

Sometimes Sheppard would join them for meals, though he did not seem as comfortable with the silence at the table. And he would not initiate conversation with Alessa. Ronon determined it had to do with what Sheppard believed her ‘issues’ to be.

Sheppard believes she has been harmed by a man or men in the past. It is why the Colonel is uncomfortable around her. It is possible that is what many on Atlantis believe. But Ronon knows differently. He knows the truth.

He has seen it in her eyes.

He sees it now in the glowing green light of the cave.

Caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, Ronon closes the distance between them and kisses her. He reins in his passion. He wants to show her who he is when they are together. How he can be. He is careful and gentle, but all too soon, he feels her tremble in his grasp and a sob escapes her throat. Ronon breaks away. “Did I hurt you?”

Tears slip from her eyes; her lips quiver. “Wh…why did you do that?” Her eyes are full of sadness he does not understand.

“I love you, Alessa.”

She gasps and is about to respond when a flash of white light engulfs him. When the flash dissipates, he is blinded by the glare of new light bouncing off polished metal. He has to close his eyes from the overwhelming brightness.

“Dear Lord!” Dr. Beckett huffs from behind Ronon. He feels a familiar hand on his shoulder. “Ronon, lad…let me see to Dr. D’Angelos.”

Ronon blinks as his eyes adjust to the lights of the Daedalus med-bay. He is pulled away from Alessa by two others: Sheppard and McKay, one at each arm. “Alessa…?”

They are already moving her onto a gurney. After mere seconds on the floor, a puddle of blood oozed from her shoulder wound. He fears too much was left in the cave. Her head rolls toward him and she meets his gaze for a moment. “Ronon…?” Her eyes close and they are taking her away.

“Alessa…” he whispers with longing. He may lose his stomach. She is unbelievably pale in the infirmary lights, starkly contrasted by the dark red covering her belly. He cut away the rest of her shirt and jacket earlier, now, leaving her exposed to all eyes. His first instinct is to cover her, but McKay and Sheppard somehow keep a strong grip on him.

“Relax, big guy,” Sheppard says as the doctor disappears with Alessa. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Ronon glares at Sheppard. “She needs me.”

Teyla moves in front of him, her voice and eyes reassuring. “Let Dr. Beckett care for her.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard adds. “It looks like she needs surgery, Ronon. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Ronon relaxes. He knows Sheppard is right. Beckett is her only chance. And he is the best. He will take care of her. He has to. When the others realize they do not have to restrain him anymore, McKay and Sheppard release their grips. Teyla rests a comforting hand on his arm.

“So…” Sheppard starts. “What the hell happened down there?”

Ronon hangs his head wearily. “I failed her.”

 

** ~ 2 weeks ago ~ **

Ronon watched her flit around her lab from one laptop to another, one journal to another, her wide eyes drinking in knowledge, her fingers flicking over the typing keys with a delicate, sure touch, her supple lips slowly parting. She licked them and Ronon’s heart flipped. Another move, this time to a Lantean terminal. She gazed up at the large screen as incomprehensible data scrolled before her; she smiled and caught the tip of her pink tongue between her teeth.

Heat radiated straight to his groin. He suppressed a groan.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” She gasped. She was talking to herself, he could tell. She did that a lot when working. Even after spending so much time together over the past week, Alessa had this mode, this fascinating mindset where nothing existed but the work. It had been the same with Ronon when he was hunting Wraith.

“I fuckin’ got it! I fuckin’ got it!” She sighed, the smile growing. She started grabbing journals and stacking them in her arms then changed her mind and hit a key on her laptop. She glanced back at the Lantean screen then typed some more information into her laptop before folding it in half and pulling the wires from the back end. She headed for the door – and Ronon – before returning to her journals and choosing one in particular. She almost rammed into him on the way out the door, but he caught her by the shoulders. “Ronon…? Oh…Sorry. I just…um…”

He smiled and she blushed. “I understand.”

Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head in the most seductive way. “Surprisingly…I think you do.” She smiled again, this time for him even though she dropped her gaze from his a moment later. “Have I said 'thank you' today?”

He nodded. “Today and every day.” Ronon gently smoothed his hands down her arms. She shivered and he pulled away.

“Um…I need to get to Dr. Weir’s office. It’s about the ZPM.”

Ronon palmed the door open. “Then we should go.” He grinned again and she ineptly hid her blush from him as usual.

He followed not even a step behind her, one stride for two and a half of hers. She clutched the laptop to her chest, the journal open for review and more notations as she shuffled down the corridor. They turned the first corner and Ronon wrapped a loose arm around Alessa’s small waist, gently pulling her close to his front and stopping her in her tracks before disaster could strike.

Not less than ten marines dressed for a gym work-out –- seemingly already finished given the visible sweat -– were converging at the end of the corridor in front of the transporter, simply chatting. She looked up at the men and Ronon felt the now familiar nervous energy tremble through her body, sending a ripple of heat through his own.

Alessa slipped from Ronon’s grasp and pressed forward. “I don’t have time for this crap,” she said more to herself than to him. Ronon gripped her shoulders and she stopped again. “Ronon.”

“Let them pass first.”

“They don’t look like their in any hurry to go anywhere,” she sighed. Her spine straightened. For the first time since they met, Alessa turned on Ronon, her face set, eyes of steel –- not unlike Dr. Weir. “Look. I know it’s your job to protect me from myself… more like protect them from me. And you’re really great at it. I’m sure hundreds of tragedies have been averted without my knowledge in the past week. But this can’t wait. So…I’m going.”

For a brief moment, Ronon wanted to let her loose on the men down the hall, just to see what might occur. Instead, he gripped her shoulders a little tighter. “Alessa—”

She motioned to the stationary men. “If you’re so worried, then do something to get them out of my way. Quickly.” Ronon cocked an eyebrow at her and she froze. “Whaaaat…?”

With no effort, Ronon picked her up and hauled her over his shoulder. She squeaked out a curse before clutching the laptop and journal tight to her chest. “Ronon…what are you doing!”

“My job,” he grunted, striding forward. The marines all caught sight of what was happening and laughter erupted from the group. “Move now,” he told the men and they instantly parted, the laughing stopped.

“Put me down!” She hollered, but Ronon could feel and hear the giggle shaking her voice and body.

After they were safely inside the transporter, Ronon did as she instructed. Her face was red and her glasses had slipped down her nose, but otherwise she was steady on her feet. “What the hell was that?” She pressed the map and instantly they were on the Command level and out into an empty corridor.

He looked down at her, catching a glint of defiance-filled humor in her eyes. “Avoiding possible physical jeopardy to you.”

She smoothed down her jacket then ran a hand through her hair. “I wasn’t in any danger from them. You know it’s the other way around.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder and she stopped to look at him. “As long as I am with you. You will remain unharmed.”

“And embarrassing me isn’t harmful?”

He shrugged. “Not physically.”

“You could have just told them I was coming. They would have scattered. Believe me.”

“Perhaps.” He grinned at her. “My way was more fun.”

Starting down the corridor again, she shook her head, but he could see the smile she hid behind her hair. “There is something seriously wrong with you, Ronon Dex.”

Ronon just grinned, following her the rest of the way.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Standing outside Daedalus medical, Ronon watches through the window as Dr. Beckett and his limited staff scramble to help Alessa. Masks cover all their faces, but Ronon sees the darkness of defeat in their eyes. A shake of a head from one nurse to Dr. Beckett makes his fists clench and he nearly decks Sheppard as the Colonel lays a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Easy, Ronon.” He holds up a cup of steaming coffee. “Thought you could use some.” Ronon shakes his head. He never got a taste for the bitter liquid. He actually prefers the tea Alessa is so fond of – with a squirt of lemon.

Sheppard shrugs then sips the drink himself. Ronon turns back to the observations window. He cannot see Alessa at all. Green sheets surround her body, hiding her from view…he needs to see her. See that he has not failed her completely.

“Sorry it took so long for us to get back to you,” Sheppard says quietly. Ronon grunts. Teyla already explained about the two-hour hyperspace trip back to the planet. Given that they could not fly a jumper through the gate, Sheppard wanted to have the necessary firepower in case the Wraith had company in orbit. Aside from the bodies on the surface, the Wraith were gone when the team returned.

“Well,” McKay says, ambling toward them from around the corner with Teyla in tow. “Though I didn’t get the opportunity to study the tracking device you mentioned – which is really too bad considering… we could have used a chance to dismantle it–”

“Rodney,” Teyla puts an edge in her voice.

Off Ronon’s sideways glare, McKay stops in his tracks and shakes a hand. “Not that that’s important right now, of course.” Ronon turns back to the window, barely listening as the doctor babbles. “Still, it must have been a short range device, like the one Teyla had as a necklace. Plus, I think it was specific to that particular hive. Which makes some sort of sense if it’s the same hive with the Wraith she shot before. Either way, the fact that it could elicit shocks and immobilize the target is utterly disturbing.”

“Their technology is even more advanced,” Teyla adds somberly.

Ignoring them, Ronon backs up as Beckett leaves the other room. He brushes passed his team, rounds the corner and nearly slams into the doctor. Beckett pulls up short. Ronon can feel Sheppard, McKay and Teyla behind him. “We’ve stabilized her blood pressure, given her two units…” Beckett says. “But we can’t wait to return to Atlantis. The abdominal wound is too severe. We have to start surgery now.”

“Doc…” Sheppard starts.

“Aye, Colonel. I’d much prefer getting her back to the city…but it’s not going to happen.” He looks straight at Ronon. “You did good, son…staving off the blood loss as best possible. The surgery is delicate…it will take time. You should rest.” With that, Beckett returns to the other room.

“I am not going away.”

“Not away,” Sheppard says. “Just…use one of the empty quarters. Clean up…eat something. We can save the debrief for Atlantis.”

Ronon turns toward his commanding officer. “I am not leaving her.”

Teyla’s hand rests on his arm again. “No one is saying you should, Ronon. But…perhaps a shower would refresh you.” He glances at her; there is compassion in her gaze. “One of us will remain on watch at all times.”

McKay starts to protest but Teyla gives him her special ‘look’ that shuts him up immediately.

“She’s right,” Sheppard adds. “Any news and we’ll get you immediately.” Something in Sheppard’s eyes tells Ronon the man finally understands. “Trust me.”

After a long, silent moment, Ronon nods. He does need to get cleaned up otherwise Beckett will not let him see Alessa after surgery. And he has to be there. She has to know she can count on him…always.

 

** ~ 1 week ago ~ **

“I have never been to this world before,” Teyla offered as they step beyond the large boulder shielding the Stargate from Wraith darts but not foot travelers.

“That’s what makes this job such an adventure,” Sheppard said. Ronon could not be certain if he was serious or not.

“Adventure? This is a waste of time,” McKay grumbled.

Ronon caught the slight smirk lifting the side of Alessa’s mouth, even though she dropped her head just a touch so that her dark hair would fall forward and conceal her face.

“Dr. D’Angelos and Dr. Weir believe differently, McKay…so quit already,” Sheppard said.

“I just don’t see why _we_ have to—”

“McKay,” Ronon growled. “Stop talking.”

That seemed to work rather well, especially when at least thirty young people suddenly appeared out of no where, surrounding them with knives, arrows and staffs raised. Ronon pulled his gun instantly and heard the familiar click of Sheppard’s P-90. But Alessa’s hand covered Ronon’s and with little effort, she urged him to lower the gun.

“Doctor—” Sheppard started.

Ignoring him, Alessa took a few steps forward, speaking in a tongue Ronon did not recognize. An elderly woman made her way through the crowd of warriors – both male and female – and stopped before the linguist.

Alessa pulled something from her pocket – it looked like a small slab of black rock – and handed it to the old woman. She spoke in that language again. The woman held the offering pressed between her palms and raised it overhead. She said something in the same language, turned to the warriors and lowered her hands, cradling the stone out for them to see.

Two at a time, the warriors lowered their weapons and came forward. With fingertips, they each touched the black stone then stepped aside, retrieved their weapons and walked away from the group.

Smiling, Alessa turned back to the team and motioned with her hand for them to relax. “It’s okay. They’re only looking to protect themselves.”

Sheppard’s eyes narrowed. “Oh…sure…now you tell us.”

Letting the locals go about their ritual, Alessa returned to the group. “I apologize, Col. Sheppard. I was not sure there would still be people living here. The last translation was over four hundred years old. And given the Wraith…”

Teyla nodded. “You could not be certain they had survived.”

Alessa shrugged. “Plus. The language is a tough one.” She sighed. “I could have just as easily invited them to kill us all – without knowing it, of course.”

McKay blanched. “Oh, wonderful. Thanks for that!”

Alessa hid her face again, but Ronon caught the sly smirk reappearing.

The old woman turned to them, speaking in her language and pulling Alessa’s attention. They talked for several moments before Alessa turned back to him and the team. “We’ve been invited to join them for evening feast and the blending ceremony.”

“Wonderful,” McKay said, rolling his eyes.

“Blending?” Sheppard asked, always wary after a certain ‘ceremony’ on P5E-889 left him and McKay married. That had been beyond amusing for everyone involved…except Sheppard and McKay, of course. Ronon recalled Sheppard going out of his way to flirt with and probably bed as many women as possible following that incident, as if he needed to prove he was not _with_ McKay.

“Roughly translated,” Alessa said. “It has to do with the joining of our cultures.” She took a deep breath then added: “But really, I just think it means…they’re having a party.” She shrugged. “After which we’ll be taken to the ‘library of knowledge’ and hopefully granted access.”

Sheppard made a face. “Sounds like a plan.”

As they followed the old woman and the warriors, McKay grumbled about everything from the pollen in the air to the fact that they could not bring a puddle jumper. Sheppard muttered to Teyla, “For once I’m actually hoping she knocks him unconscious.” And Teyla chuckled.

“What was that?” McKay asked.

Ronon was able to ignore them so he could focus more on Alessa. When she was not speaking with the old woman, she wrote notes into her journal. Ever since her discovery the past week, Alessa had been full of energy: smiling, laughing, even making jokes. She told him she had a new outlook on life. She was going to try and have more fun with her work. She even mentioned that it had something to do with Ronon. “You’ve made things…easier. I really appreciate that. I hope you know,” she told him the other day.

When Dr. Weir reported no new injuries or accidents since he took over as Alessa’s bodyguard, Ronon took pride in that. But at the same time, he worried about what would happen when he was needed elsewhere. Would Alessa’s tendency toward disaster resurface?

Probably.

So, Ronon decided that in whatever time he had left he could not simply be her bodyguard. He had to now train her to be less invisible and less nervous around men. If she could relax with him, she could do so with anyone else. She was going to have to change because he knew the others around her would refuse to do so.

This new ‘outlook’ would come in handy for such training once they got back to Atlantis.

The long trek to the village left them in near dark once they arrived. A rather large village with small homes made from the natural resources of the world surrounded a circular clearing where the feast had already been prepared. Torches lined the area giving everything a warm glow.

As they arrived, the remaining members of the village came to greet the old woman and touch the stone. A few of those who already had touched it came to the team’s aid, ushering them toward the food and then a table. As they sat with their full plates, beverages were brought. Alessa spoke with one of the men who helped serve them. A moment later she said: “Don’t drink too much. I believe it’s alcohol.”

“Good to know,” Sheppard said taking a sip.

Ronon gulped his down. It tasted of fruit, very sweet. A refill came promptly, but he took more time with that one.

“Did they happen to mention citrus by chance…hmmm?”

Sheppard sighed. “I’ve got the Epi-pen if you go into shock. Of course, you can always decide not to eat.” He grinned. At McKay’s gaping-mouth expression, Teyla, Ronon and Alessa exchanged amused glances.

The food tasted amazing and there was plenty to go around. From what Alessa could tell them, this was how the village always ate…together. They shared all meals; all produce for the good of the village. Alessa’s eyes widened with wonder at the thought of such a community of people.

Dancing followed the meal and the team watched from the sidelines. Many of the villagers encouraged them to join in, but Sheppard steadfastly refused as did Teyla and McKay. Ronon, however, after having his fill of the local brew felt cheerful and full of energy. He grabbed Alessa’s hand and pulled her out into the crowd. Many cheered them.

Given their difference in height, Ronon found it easier to wrap his arms around Alessa and pick her up off her feet while he swung her around. It did not register to him that she was shaking until he looked into her eyes and saw something he never expected…or wanted to see there…

Ronon released her instantly. “I’m sorry, Alessa…I did not mean to scare you.”

She shook her head quickly, looking down at her boots. “No…no…you didn’t.” When she glanced up at him with her shy smile, he could tell that was the truth. But he _had_ seen fear in her eyes, he was sure of it. If not because of him…what then?

“You…ah…startled me…that’s all.”

Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. She was hiding something. Ronon lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes again. Before he could ask her anything else, a hush fell over the crowd. People parted and opened a circle around Alessa and him. They looked around: Ronon warily, Alessa nervously. Then the old woman appeared, stepping forward carrying the black stone Alessa had given her earlier. She motioned with it.

“Oh…? Now?” Alessa nodded to Sheppard. “I guess we go now, Colonel.” Alessa stepped forward to follow the woman but Ronon grasped her hand. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Back to work.”

Ronon took his place one step behind Alessa, followed by the rest of his team.

It was not a long walk to the ‘library’ but in the dark it took some time. The trail went through solid woods until they came upon a small mountain of stone. Alessa had her flashlight ready and immediately started searching for something. As she consulted her notes and continued to work, Teyla came up to Ronon.

She brushed her shoulder against his arm. When he turned to her, she whispered low enough so that none but he could hear. “Is it wise to pursue such a … delicate woman, Ronon?” Ronon was about to protest but she raised that eyebrow telling him it was of no use. “I fear you are not seeing the possibility that—”

“What?” He lowered his head so that he could glare at her evenly. How could she judge him? “That I could hurt her?”

She continued in that smooth, low voice, unwilling to draw attention. “I have heard of …your encounters with other women on Atlantis. It is not impossible… do you not agree.”

His blood flowed hot under his skin. His fingers curled into fists. “I would _never_ hurt Alessa.”

“I believe you would never _want_ to hurt her, Ronon. But wants and needs are not always compatible.”

Teyla left him wondering about that. Maybe that had scared Alessa. If Teyla knew of his bed partners, if they spoke of their times with him… of the things he would do, his endurance…the roughness with which he took some of them -– even though they requested such things –- Alessa could easily know the same. If she did not fear him…perhaps she feared she was not right for him. Or that she could not please him.

Alessa’s cry of joy pulled him out of the dark thoughts and returned Ronon to the present task. He watched as she took the stone from the woman and placed it in a groove in the wall. The stone slipped into place with an audible click.

The ground shook. The rocks around them rattled against each other and then one simply fell into the ground…or more accurately, slid into a crevice that opened beneath it, revealing a dark tunnel leading into the mountain.

Ready to rush in, Alessa stumbled to a stop when Sheppard grabbed her arm. He glanced at Ronon, giving him a silent warning to keep her out then the Colonel took point, followed by Teyla to check out the location.

Less than an hour later, they headed back to the village. “Well, that was a complete waste of time.”

“Was not, McKay. Now we know where the ruins are,” Sheppard said.

“Which we would have been able to find hours ago if we hadn’t been bothered to ‘blend’ with the locals. It’s less than a mile from the gate! We could have been there and gone already…but nooooo.”

“As I recall, Dr. McKay,” Teyla said in her usual diplomatic tone. “You quite enjoyed the evening feast.”

McKay crossed his arms. “It was rather good.”

“The village elder is so happy to have the sacred library opened that we have been offered lodging for the night. We are not required to sleep among the pollen and grasses you are not fond of,” she continued.

Sheppard smacked McKay on the back of the head. “See…look on the bright side for a change.”

The next day they found the ruins and made camp. It was easier than returning to Atlantis every night since Alessa preferred working until she nearly dropped. Two days in a row, Ronon had to forcefully remove her from the stone structure that seemed covered in endless ancient writings. Even McKay was astonished by her long hours, and he rarely slept while on Atlantis.

Four days later Alessa rushed out of the ruins urgently writing in her journal, a giant smile spread across her face. “ZPM! I know where-–”

“Wraith!” Sheppard yelled.

And Ronon broke his vow.

Perhaps she was right to be afraid.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

Ronon closes his eyes and leans forward into the spray of hot water. Resting his forehead against the cool surface of the shower stall, he stands there, letting the water drench him from head to toe, all the while seeing Alessa’s sad eyes after their kiss. He does not understand. Perhaps the sadness was for him, because he does not deserve her, he is unworthy. She felt bad for him because she cannot return his feelings.

“Now that’s just silly.”

Ronon spins in the small shower, slipping slightly and bumping against the wall behind him, the shower spigot clunks him on the head and he winces. But it is the vision before him that is going to make his heart stop. She smiles. No blushing, no hiding, standing inches from him, gloriously naked for his eyes only.

There are no injuries. No blood. Just silky white skin begging for his touch, his lips.

Then her delicate hands glide up his water slick arms to rest on his shoulders. Her eyes lock onto his and he loses all control. Ronon wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up and clenching her to his body as his mouth devours hers in a heated kiss. She does not resist, but does tremble from his touch with pleasure. When her tongue eagerly hits his, searching him out, it is Ronon who moans with need.

He knows this is a dream. More vivid than he has ever had, but knows all the same. And he does not care.

“Alessa…” he sighs, trickling kisses from her mouth over her jaw and down her neck. She lets her head drop back and moans when he suckles on the tendon at her shoulder. She feels so real in his arms, so smooth and slippery in the water stream. He has to have her.

“Yes,” she whispers against his ear as her tongue tickles the lobe sending a shiver straight through him, hardening him instantly.

He pushes her into the opposite wall, though careful not to be too rough even though he knows this is not real; it feels all too real and he wants that feeling to last, wants this tactile dreamscape to be memorable. He kisses her without reservation, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, tasting every part of her. She accepts, eager for more, crushing her lips to his.

Hearing her sigh and moan as he grasps her breasts and flicks his thumbs over her tightened nipples is enough to waken him from any dream. And yet he does not wake.

He keeps his eyes open the whole time, watching her face glisten with pleasure. Afraid to close his eyes for fear she might vanish as easily as she appeared.

With a gentleness he has shown few in his life, Ronon smoothes his hands over her slick skin, down to her belly, around her back and cups her ass, squeezing as he pulls her tighter against him, pressing her against his swollen cock. As much as he wants to drive inside her this moment, Ronon denies himself. He wants this to last as long as possible. He wants to marvel in her flesh…in the feel of her.

He plans to take his time…and he can because time has no meaning here, not in dreams.

His lips and tongue tease one breast as he returns a hot, wanting hand to the other. Her fingers delve into his hair, hands crushing him to her chest as he takes as much of her into his mouth as he can. She squirms for him when he pinches a nipple, thrusting her hips against him and he groans against the urgency in his groin, the need to take her is fierce, but he has had years of learning restraint. As payback for the pressure she is plying on him, Ronon switches breasts, sending her into a frenzy of whimpers as he lavishes the same attention as before.

“I want…you…inside…me…” she gasps.

Ronon pulls back and stares into her eyes. Their rich color with speckles of gold have never been so clear in his mind before. He grins. “Not yet.” Then his mouth is traveling down her body, licking water drops, tasting her as he kneels before her. With gentle pressure, he separates her thighs, finding her hot and swollen. He licks her and she gasps again. His eager fingers open her to him and he kisses her deeply on her most secret spot. Her hips push against his mouth as she writhes with sensation. Her hands are in his hair again, fingertips tight on his scalp.

Looking up at her, he sees the wonder in her eyes he always expected. Slowly, he sends a finger inside her and those eyes widen. She bites her thick bottom lip. He pushes another finger inside her and her head falls back against the wall. He gets a third inside her and she cries out in that whisper of a voice that sends another ripple of pleasure straight to his cock. He moves his fingers, plunging them in and out as he latches his mouth onto her sweet spot again. He alternates between sucking and tickling it with the tip of his tongue as he continues the invasion of her hot core.

He feels her quaking, ready to fall apart for him so he stops abruptly. Rising, he sees confusion in her eyes. He smiles again and kisses her deeply, sucking on her tongue, exploring her mouth, nipping at those full lips.

They break apart, breathless. Ronon grips her ass again, lifts her up, guiding her legs around his waist and positions himself. His eyes stay on hers. She is so close now; it should not take much to push her over the edge. It will take less to push him over.

Slowly, Ronon slips inside her. Her body wet and ready…accepting and a warmth flows through him making his heart flutter as he sinks all the way into her. Their heady moans combine as they become one. He simply holds her there, watching her as she watches him. “I love you Alessa…”

She smiles. It is all he will get, of course. This is a dream after all. He cannot control everything. But the smile is enough to loosen the rein on his desire. He lifts her up, pulling free at the same time, only to slide back inside her a little harder than before…and again…and again until he has no control over his body and he thrusts deep, hard and fast.

She clings to him, hands gripping his shoulders, mouth pressed to his ear. With every thrust she whimpers with need until finally she calls his name. He pulls back in time to see her face as she falls apart before him. It is the most beautiful thing in the world, watching her quiver with pleasure that he provided.

Ronon presses her into the wall with all his weight, tightens his hold on her thighs, spreading her legs wider and drives into her with a fierceness he was not prepared to use with this woman. Her hard nipples rub against his sensitive skin and tingles spark through his body, making him harder than he ever imagined. So slick and hot, he is so deep inside her he can feel every part of her surrounding him, pulsing and coaxing him to give in… to release.

She cries out as another wave washes through her just as a groan tears from Ronon’s chest as his own orgasm hits, rocketing through him like hot flowing metal.

“I was… afraid… to love you,” she whispers against his neck. “I’m sorry.” He holds her tight, not willing to let go of the dream so soon. “Ronon…”

“Ronon!”

He opens his eyes and gets hit in the face with a stream of hot water. He does not recall closing his eyes, or facing the water as he had when he first started the shower, yet here he is… “Sheppard?” He opens the stall door and sees the Colonel standing in the door to the quarters.

“I’ve been calling you for like two minutes…you all right?”

“Fine. What is it?”

“Get dressed. Something’s happened.”

Ronon grabs a towel and quickly dries himself. “What is it?”

Sheppard rubs the back of his neck as he looks at his boots. “I think Carson should tell you.”

Ronon pulls on his pants without caring that Sheppard is in front of him. “You tell me.”

Sheppard takes a deep breath. “I told you I’d come get you if… Just after you came in here… well, I mean a minute or two…” he glances at his watch. “About seven minutes ago by now… I guess. I tried to get to you as soon as I knew what was—”

“Sheppard.”

“Dr. D’Angelos… she… um…” he sighs. “She didn’t make it… She’s dead, Ronon.”

He hears the words but they do not register for him. He feels the punch in his chest but it does not make any sense. Pain radiates through his body and the only thing he wants to do is transfer it to someone else…even Sheppard. “No.” Grabbing his shirt, he pulls it on as he pushes his way passed Sheppard and into the corridor.

He chose a room not far from the medical bay so only takes him a few strides, looking through the window as before. Teyla and Rodney are both there; they turn to him with sadness in their eyes. But it is what he sees beyond, in the other room that confuses him even more.

Dr. Beckett with the rest of his team…still working on Alessa. After a few frantic moments, the team stops to look at something hidden from Ronon's view. Ronon leans his forehead to the window which somehow pulls Beckett’s attention. The doctor nods to Ronon then returns to his patient.

Ronon turns to Sheppard. “What is happening?”

“They’ve been shocking her…” McKay mutters, shaking his head.

“Wow…” is all Sheppard manages, his eyes glued to the room beyond.

“I think…it looks like…” McKay says softly. “They brought her back.” He catches Ronon’s gaze. “Twelve minutes… but they got her back.”

“She is a fighter…” Teyla says softly, her eyes sliding to hold Ronon’s. “Perhaps stronger than I believed.”

Ronon wants to hit Sheppard for scaring him and hug all three of them until they scream. Instead, he turns back to the window. Not leaving again, no matter what anyone says. She will know he is out here, waiting. Watching.

_Alessa..._

Ronon closes his eyes as her name whispers through his mind. The cool glass against his forehead reminds him of the shower stall.

_I was afraid to love you._

His eyes snap open. He knows it like he knows how to breathe. He can feel it in his bones.

Those were her words. Alessa’s words.

It was not just a dream.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

Teyla stands beside Ronon as Beckett comes into the Daedalus observation room. Sheppard and Rodney already returned to the city to inform Dr. Weir of what happened. Ronon refused to leave as long as Alessa was in surgery.

“She’s stable now,” Beckett says solemnly. “It was a difficult beginning…so much blood loss. Her heart couldn’t… but we did get her back. And she’s a healthy woman …I don’t see any reason she won’t make a full recovery.”

“How long will…?” Teyla asks.

“The abdominal wound was severe. The weapon went in at an odd angle.” He raises questioning eyes to Ronon. “Was she bent over when it happened?”

“I…I didn’t... She was behind me…”

“Aye. Well, it nicked the intestines and punctured another organ—”

Ronon’s about to speak but Beckett holds up a hand. “Not an essential…well, not…” his eyes drop and he rubs his neck. “The intestines will be fine. Cleaned her up inside good as new, plus introduce a broad spectrum antibiotic to stave off possible infection, though I don’t foresee that being a problem. The other… well…we did our best to repair it, but only time will tell.”

“Her shoulder, you mean?” Ronon asks.

“No…um… that’s been taken care of as well. A clean cut but deep. It needed many stitches.” He crosses his arms. “How did that—”

Ronon hangs his head. “I did it.”

Teyla steps forward. “A necessary field decision.” She explains about the Wraith transmitter and the doctor nods.

“I’m glad she had you there son. If it’d been me… I would’ve wanted you to do the same.” He exhales heavily. “Recovery will be difficult… she’ll need time to get back on her feet, of course.”

“Can I see her?”

“We’ve beamed her into the infirmary already. She’s still unconscious and will be for a while yet. Perhaps you should get some rest now that we’re back.”

Ronon shakes his head, taking a step closer to Beckett. “I need to see her.”

He sighs, nodding. “Very well.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Ronon holds her hand as he sits by her side in the infirmary, in the bed closest to Beckett’s office, though curtains surround her for privacy.

They beamed him directly to the infirmary along with Beckett nearly two hours ago. Teyla chose to go to the control tower and check in with Dr. Weir and Sheppard. Ronon’s first impression of Alessa post-surgery was that she looked dead. Her skin unbelievably pale – though less so than on the Daedalus – and he could not see her breathing. Beckett assured him she was. The doctor checked the monitor next to the bed and the bag of clear fluid hanging above before patting Alessa’s hand and nodding to Ronon, leaving them alone.

Both Dr. Weir and Sheppard stopped in to check, but neither stayed long. Dr. Weir is kind enough to wait until tomorrow for the debriefing. Sheppard had something to do with that. He gave Ronon a sympathetic look and a pat on the back as he left. Ronon is sure the colonel now realizes how important Alessa has become to the former runner.

Ronon didnot tell anyone about what happened in the shower. But he knows it was not a simple fantasy. He and Alessa are connected on every level now. Her spirit came to him, sought him out when…

She is alive. And she loves him. Nothing will separate them again.

“Ronon?” Her voice is a scratchy whisper of itself but he hears it clearly, having waited hours for that sound.

He brings her hand up and lightly brushes his lips across her fingers. “Alessa.”

Her eyes open but roll around as if she cannot focus. “Whe…where…?” She winces and her free hand goes to her throat. During Beckett’s last visit he brought a cup of ice chips and had Ronon place some on her tongue and rub them on her lips every so often, explaining about the tube that had been in her throat during surgery. Obviously the minimal liquid she is permitted has not eased the discomfort.

Ronon places a finger over her mouth, keeping her from talking and he again slips a small chip onto her tongue. The gleam in her half-closed eyes is full of gratitude. “You had surgery. Do you remember being injured?” Her eyes close but she nods slightly. “Are you in pain?” She nods again and Ronon calls to the nurse beyond the curtain.

He turns back, still holding her hand and feels a definite squeeze from her fingers. She watches him through those half-lids. The smile, when it comes, is tired and weak but unbelievably beautiful. “You saved me,” she whispers, not even trying to use her voice.

“Dr. Beckett did.”

Alessa sighs, her fingers tighten around his weakly. “No…” her gaze holds his hostage. “You did.” Then her eyes close for a few long breaths.

Ronon believes she fell asleep until he feels her thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. He moves closer, caressing her cheek with his other hand and she leans into his touch. “Do you remember…everything?” She smiles, her eyes opening.

“There she is,” Beckett says as he parts the curtain and comes in. He looks to Ronon. “I need to examine Dr. D’Angelos and then she’ll need her rest.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

“No,” Beckett says firmly. “You’ll wait until tomorrow… in the afternoon.”

“But—”

“I told you. She needs her rest.”

Ronon can already feel Alessa slipping away, her thumb has stopped moving and the pressure of her fingers around his grows limp with exhaustion. Ronon leans over and kisses her forehead, a motion that does not go unnoticed by Beckett –- his eyes widen.

Ronon whispers in her ear. “I love you. I will be back.”

Alessa sighs, still smiling, but her eyes are closed. “Okay.”

As Ronon starts to leave, he glances back at Beckett. “Will she know… about what happened?”

Beckett’s eyes narrow in question. “Oh… dying, you mean?” He whispers the response, probably not wanting to use such a word around her. “Very doubtful. There’s the possibility she’ll have lost several minutes of memory… even of the attack. It’s a chemical reaction in the brain, the short term information doesn’t have the opportunity to create lasting images.”

Ronon shakes his head. “I mean during the time she was… gone. Will she know…”

Beckett seems intrigued by the idea but he shakes his head. “Many people report out-of-body experiences… going toward a light of some kind. Or an overwhelming feeling of peace… but most retain no knowledge of the event. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Who died?” The hoarse whisper comes from the bed and both men look to her. Alessa’s eyes are open again, though glassy and weary. She winces from pain and her hand goes to her belly.

Beckett takes her hand and squeezes it. “No one, lass. Everyone is alive and well. Including you. Now, this should take the pain away momentarily.” He pulls a syringe from his pocket and plunges it into the tube leading to her arm. “And I need to examine you.” He turns back to Ronon. “Tomorrow… afternoon would be reasonable. But not for long.”

Ronon nods. Alessa smiles at him, her eyes closing with the weight of the drugs. “See ya,” she sighs.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Ronon lies belly down to the ground behind the DHD with McKay. He checks for possible ambush, seeing nothing, but staying alert. He is covering the annoying scientist as he tries to fix the damaged controller.

Three days ago, while Ronon and the rest were at the ruins, AT-5 went on a simple meet and greet mission to M3E-202 only to miss their check-in time. It turns out they were attacked and captured by the locals. Sheppard, feeling responsible for Sgt. Leah Riley –- and her team, of course -– in what Ronon believes is the Colonel’s weakness for pretty red-headed females, insisted that AT-1 take the rescue mission. Dr. Weir agreed.

Getting onto the planet yesterday was easy, though they could not take a jumper. Finding the captured team and rescuing them today was less easy but extremely entertaining given the amount of fighting Ronon was able to do without having to worry about not hurting his opponents. Getting back to the gate seemed like a piece of pie… until the darts coated with some kind of immobilizing drug started flying through the tall grass and trees.

Teyla was struck in the thigh and her right leg went out on her instantly. Sheppard got hit in the left arm, so at least he could still fire his P-90. They remained in the woods with the wounded and still drugged AT-5 members while McKay and Ronon advanced to open the Stargate. Unfortunately, the villagers had managed to beat them to the DHD and dismantle it somehow. From Riley’s report, the locals trap travelers and keep them for sacrifices… and feasts.

And here Ronon thought the Wraith were the worst thing to happen to humans. “No, humans are the worst thing to happen to humans,” Sheppard groused earlier as they stumbled through the woods.

McKay swears he can fix the DHD, but he has been saying that for nearly thirty minutes. Ronon’s given up grumbling about wanting to get back to Atlantis and see Alessa. Since they left yesterday before first light, he missed his chance to visit her in the infirmary. He has been itching to hold her hand.

He burns to kiss her again.

Finally, the gate opens. “Sheppard,” Ronon calls over the radio and they all head home.

Ronon rushes to the infirmary, muddy and sweaty but does not want to take the time to shower before letting her know how much he has missed her. He parts the curtain and sees her eyes closed, he hangs his head and sighs.

“Go away,” she says, obviously not asleep.

“Alessa?”

Her eyes open and she stares at him. He can see she has been crying recently and it tugs at his heart. He takes her hand but she slips it out of his grasp. “Ronon. Sorry. Thought you were Dr. Beckett.” She smiles but there is really nothing behind it, no happiness at seeing him, none of the emotion of the last one. “You need a bath, young man.”

He glances at his clothes and nods. “Wanted to see you first.”

“See away. I’m good.” Her voice is hollow, cold even. “I don’t suggest taking a picture. I’m not that photogenic.”

“What has happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have been crying.”

She shrugs only to wince. “I’m a baby when it comes to needles.” She rolls her eyes as if impatient with him. “You should get cleaned up.”

Ronon sits in his usual chair. “Not until you tell me what has upset you.”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He knows she’s lying because she refuses to look at him.

“Did I do something wrong? I did not mean to be gone for so long… we got—”

She laughs harshly only to wince and clutch her belly. “God damn! That hurts.” She sighs. “Hate to break it to you, Ronon… but I kinda didn’t even notice. Sorry. Had other things… my own things to deal with. You know… internal injuries and all.”

Disturbed and hurt by her coldness, Ronon hangs his head. The silence is beyond awkward, something they have never had between them. He gets up and paces the short area. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpses a brown book on the floor and picks it up.

“Leave it!”

“Your journal.” He hands it to her only to have her throw it a moment later, a growl of fury and pain following.

“Get out!”

“What is wrong?”

She closes her eyes and sighs, pain flashing over her features. “I want to be alone.”

“Alessa—”

“No! Ronon.” Her gaze latches onto his and there is so much pain in her eyes he has to look away. “I won’t be needing your services anymore. You can go back to your normal… just leave me alone.”

“That’s enough,” Beckett says coming in. “Ronon. She wants you to leave.”

“We have to talk.”

Alessa turns away from him. “Just go.”

Ronon wants to protest but the warning in Beckett’s eyes gives him pause. He follows the doctor out of the curtained area. “What is wrong?”

“It’s been a difficult couple of days.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“She didn’t take the news of her injuries very well… There will be scar tissue… internally. And a high probability of…” he seems about to say more but restrains himself. “It disturbed her… the scarring.”

“You said she would be well.”

“Aye. She will be.” His eyes take on a sadness. “It’s… it will not be life-threatening. She will be fine.” Beckett crosses his arms. “Something else also upset her, however. Dr. Weir brought her journal… it seems she didn’t get to finish before—”

“The Wraith attack. I know.”

“Aye. The lass is… She can’t remember something vital to finding the ZPM.”

Ronon shrugs. “So we go back when she is healed. She will find…”

Beckett shakes his head. “It will be several weeks… possibly a month or so before she’s permitted off-world again. And if you know Dr. D’Angelos as well as I believe you do…” his brows rise and there’s a hint of understanding in his eyes. He rests a hand on Ronon’s shoulder. “Come by tomorrow. I’m sure the lass will be happy to see you first thing.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Beckett was wrong. The next day, Alessa refused to see Ronon. In fact, she refused to see him for the next week and a half. Beckett was always polite, but firm when keeping Ronon from the curtained area. It was up to Alessa and she made it quite clear she did not want visitors.

Sitting in the mess, Ronon overhears McKay talking to Dr. Weir about Alessa being released to her quarters. Apparently both of them have spoken to her quite a bit over the past week trying to jog her memory for the ZPM information.

Losing his appetite, he stalks out of the mess hall and makes his way to Alessa’s quarters. He knows she is in there because she has just been released and will need several more weeks of medical attention until she gets her strength back. Aside from the fact that he can hear her moving around inside. He knocks but does not answer when she asks who it is. He waits for her to open the door.

“Ronon,” she gasps.

“What have I done wrong?”

She shakes her head, backing up to sit on her bed. “Nothing.”

“Then why did you refuse to see me all this time.”

Alessa licks her lips before biting hard on the bottom one. She drops her gaze to her hands clasped in her lap. “I…I didn’t want to see anyone.”

“Including doctors Weir and McKay?”

She shakes her head. “They came to see me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“But with me…” he remembers the journal, how angry she was about it. “You blame me.”

Her eyes hit his, wide and questioning. “What?”

“Because I did not get you something to write on. In the cave. You believe it is my fault.”

“No… No. I don’t.” Her gaze drops again. “It’s no one’s fault… except my stupid… useless brain.” Another head shake. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go back in a couple of months…”

“Then why? Why avoid me?”

She gets up then, carefully, her hand going to her belly. She moves in small measured steps, obviously battling pain, but she is putting distance between them, going toward the bathroom. “I’m not avoiding you,” she says softly. “I… I just don’t… you don’t need to be my bodyguard is all.”

Ronon abandons the doorway and comes up close behind her. Close enough for her to feel his presence even though he makes no attempt to touch her. “I am more than that.”

She turns, glancing at him quickly before dropping her eyes. “No… that’s where you’re wrong.”

Ronon takes a step back. “What?”

Her free hand flutters to her forehead and she closes her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh… It’s just that…” she sighs, looking at him with those sad eyes he remembers all too well. “We’re friends, Ronon. We can’t be more than that. And in the infirmary… the way you looked at me…”

She might as well have taken his gun and shot a hole into his chest, blowing his heart away, leaving him hollow. “I… I do not… I love you, Alessa.”

She takes a deep breath and it shudders through her. “Please don’t say that.”

Ronon grabs her by the upper arms and she winces. He relaxes his hold only slightly. “Tell me you do not love me.” When she keeps her gaze from his, he gently lifts her chin so that their eyes lock. “You came to me… you died and came to me.”

Her eyes narrow with confusion. “What?”

How could he tell her without making her think he is insane? “On the Daedalus. I was cleaning up. You were in surgery. You came to me… during the time when you were dead on the table.”

She shakes it off. “Ronon—”

“You said you were afraid to love me. Is that why you are saying these things? There is no reason to be afraid. I love you, Alessa. We are bonded… spirit to spirit.”

She tries to pull out of his grasp, but he holds her firm. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“I already have. We have no future together. Just get that through your thick skull.” This time she looks right into his eyes. “I can’t be what you need. I’m sorry.” There are tears in her eyes, sadness, but also something else. Something that makes Ronon’s stomach twist and flip.

She is telling the truth.

Ronon releases her, turns and leaves. The door shuts behind him and he leans against the wall for support. How is he supposed to go on? How can he walk away?

Anger swells in the place his heart used to be. How can she turn him away so easily? Toss his love aside as if it means nothing. He was willing to give his life for her and she rejects him without a care. Sure he saw the sadness in her eyes, but what good is that for? She lied to him… her _spirit_ lied to him.

Or did it. When she visited him in death she told him she was afraid to love him… she never told him she _does_ love him.

“You are a fool, Dex!” he says out loud. “She could never love you.”

As the anger turns to rage against himself, Ronon could hear a gasp of pain come from inside her quarters. He is tempted to go back inside and help, but instead turns away and stomps down the corridor, clicking on his headset as he goes. “Medical emergency in Dr. D’Angelos’ quarters,” he says coolly.

He does not look back.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Ronon slams his fist into the side of Lorne’s head and the guy goes down fast and hard. His backup two come at Ronon from behind and he grasps them around the neck only to flip them over his shoulders and plant them back first onto the floor with a dual thud. His boot connects with a few ribs and there is a resounding crack.

“That’s enough!” Sheppard shouts a second too late. Ronon spins, baring teeth at the colonel before remembering this is supposed to be practice. Sheppard gets in his face. “You’re done.”

Ronon glances at the men sprawled on the floor; a flash of guilt hits him because he knows he went too far. With a growl, he buries the guilt and the thoughts of Alessa. This is not about her.

_Who am I kidding? This is all about her!_

She told him how Lorne’s team had talked about her and he had promised to visit pain on the men. And no matter how much her rejection hurt, he does not back out on a promise.

It has been two weeks since they last spoke –- since he has seen her even –- and he has been nothing short of a mess. He has not slept or eaten much in days and his stomach is constantly upset as if he might vomit at any moment.

“What is with you?” Sheppard asks in his commander’s voice, his eyes dark and angry.

“Nothing.”

The other men help each other to their feet. The one with the cracked ribs leans between Lorne and the other guy as they help him out of the gym. Everyone else disperses, leaving Ronon alone with Sheppard.

“Like hell. Whatever’s going on, get over it now. I can’t have a loose cannon on my team.”

Ronon glares at him. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I just said. I can see you’re angry about something. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, fine. But talk to somebody. Fix it now… or else.”

Ronon grabs his towel as he stomps out of the gym. It might be best if he left Atlantis altogether. He was good on his own. He could be again.

_She’ will follow no matter where I go._

As he marches toward his quarters, his body tenses even more. Even if he wanted to leave Atlantis, it would not make a difference. Alessa is inside him… a part of him.

He will have to find a way to get her out. To forget her.

A hand touches his arm and he whips around ready to pummel whoever owns it. Dr. Jennifer Wilkes backs up a step, pulling her hand free. Her eyes go wide, but not with fear as he would have expected. “Doctor.”

“Ronon,” she says in that familiar husky voice. She was the first woman he ever bedded that could purr like one of the jungle felines on Sateda. He found it rather arousing. The thought still quickens his pulse.

“You look tense,” she says, taking a step closer to him. “Are you feeling all right?”

“No.” He remembers her nails scratching across his back and his butt as she pulled him close, urging him deeper.

She nods, licking her lips. Then without another word, she takes his hand and leads the way down the corridor. She palms open a room, empty except for an unused desk. Dust covers the floor. No one has been in this room since coming to Atlantis. She palms the door closed and turns to him. “I have a remedy for tension,” is all the lead-in she gives him before settling her hand on his crotch and gently rubbing.

Ronon clenches his teeth against the instant pleasure she invokes. “You do not know what you are doing.” This is wrong. He should not be here … with anyone.

She closes the gap between them, pushing her heavy breasts against his chest. “I’m a big girl, Ronon. I know exactly what I’m doing…and what I want.” She slips her hand inside his pants. “Let the tiger come out and play a while?”

Ronon grips her wrist and she winces. He leans down, his lips so close to hers he can taste the mint on her breath. “I am not in a good mood, doctor.”

Ignoring his wrist lock, she flicks her fingers along his package, firming him up. “What kind of mood are you in now?” She raises her brows coyly.

Grabbing her head in both hands, Ronon pulls her mouth to his and crushes her lips in a bruising, possessive kiss; she battles back just as fiercely. Teeth clash, tongues seek, lips merge and suck. At the same time, she struggles to undo his pants with her free hand as her other one continues the warm, tantalizing torment within.

Ronon releases her, both of them gasping. Desire burns in her eyes and blood gorges his groin, stiffening him painfully. She finally frees him from his trousers and her eyes dart to his exposed erection. A dark smile tugs at her mouth. “That for me?”

Ronon groans, rolling his eyes. He presses firmly on her shoulders until she understands what he wants. “You will do.”

She kneels in front of him, using her hands, her tongue, surrounding him with her lips and all thought leaves him. He cares about nothing except the feel of a hot mouth engulfing him, taking him in. He buries his hands in thick hair, gripping tight as he thrusts his hips forward, forcing himself deeper into the moist heat. Moans and whimpers barely register past his grunting as he keeps a firm hold with his hands, pushing himself inside with urgency. Fucking a mouth as eagerly as he would a wet core is nothing new to him…feels just as satisfying in fact.

A sharp pain hitches his breath, bringing him back to the moment. He looks down, seeing a glint of anger in her eyes, muffled by the strong desire still present.

“That’s enough of that,” she says, getting to her feet.

Gripping her upper arms and squeezing, he growls: “Not finished.”

“Good,” she sneers. “Then do something else with it.”

Ronon bares his teeth. “You should not be so eager, doctor.”

“Just shut up and fuck me already, Ronon.”

She moves to kiss him again and that breaks the last of his restraint. Holding her by the neck, he pushes her face first into the nearest wall, grasping her wrists, hauling them over her head and locking them together with one firm hand.

Using his knee, he spreads her legs as he hikes the skirt up over her hips. The thin undergarment he rips away easily, eliciting a sharp gasp and leaving a welt on her thighs. He positions himself between her legs and with a fierce, hard thrust he slams inside and she cries out, obviously not as ready for him as she claimed. But too late now. He withdraws and slams into her again getting another cry. Over and over he plunges inside. He grabs her by the hair and yanks hard. “This is what you wanted!”

“Yes,” she gasps.

Ronon releases his hold on her wrists and hair. He rakes his fingertips down the shirt back. Reaching the hem, he drives his hands underneath, around the front, palming plump breasts and pinching taught nipples hard as he continues to grind. Her cheek rests against the wall and she grunts with each powerful thrust. “…fuck you ‘til it hurts,” he hisses squeezing both nipples again.

“Yes! God yes. Harder!”

Ronon grabs the back of her neck in one big hand and spins them both to the desk. He shoves her forward, bending her at the waist. She grasps the far edge of the desk as she lays flat on top of it. Using his boots, Ronon slides her feet apart over the dirty floor, opening her further. Taking hold of her hips, he drives into her ruthlessly. Long hard strokes, from tip to base, slapping his body against hers with so much force, she will have trouble walking for days. But he does not care. It feels too good.

She whimpers again, crying out in incoherent words. Ronon cannot deal with her right now. He presses down, his upper body crushing into her back. Her head comes up and he covers her mouth with his hand, stifling the noise as he slams into her over and over. He wishes she would have just stayed on her knees… He is so engorged, so hard, he desperately needs release. But as he pistons in and out of the hot, tight tunnel he knows it will not happen anytime soon.

As with most men of Sateda, it could take an hour for him to rupture. He does not want to spend that much time with this woman, no matter how enticing her muffled cries are or how good it feels to release control over his basic animal instincts and simply take what he needs…

He needs Alessa.

He wants Alessa.

He should _be_ with Alessa. His heart hurts when he thinks of her. Tears burn, threatening… so he closes his eyes to keep them back. It is unfair. All these women who wish for him to do things to them. To fuck them without mercy. They really only want to take from him. But he has nothing to give. He has already lost his heart…his soul to Alessa…

But she refused him. She turned her back.

He will forget her. He will bury himself in any waiting woman who will have him. He will take his pleasure and quell the pain.

Ronon wraps an arm around Wilkes’ waist and lifts her, pulling her back against his chest as he continues jerking his hips, thrusting up inside her as she wanted…without respite, without tenderness. She gasps at the feel of his teeth on her neck. “You mean nothing to me,” he groans in her ear without forethought, the words simply come.

“Same here,” she spits back.

Ronon pulls out, spinning her in his arms, grabbing her in his large hands and shakes her once. Twice. “Then why am I here!”

She holds his eyes and smiles. An unseen hand grasps his cock, skimming over it, enticing him to remain hard. “For this.” She flicks his tip and a shudder rushes up his spine. “I’m sick of seeing you mooning over Dr. D’Angelos. She’s not good enough for you. She can’t give you what you need.”

So not everyone is as blind as he believes.

“And you can?” What does this woman know of his needs? He only bedded her once a long time ago. She has not spoken with him since. Not even when he has seen her in the mess has she given him the smallest amount of her time. Only now. Only when she wants something does she come to him. This is not about helping him release his tension… it is all about her.

“Try me.”

Ronon rips open her shirt. Her breasts heave beneath their thin cloth barrier. He yanks on the straps of her undergarment, snapping them and her breasts burst free from restraint. Pushing her back down onto the desk, Ronon buries his face in her chest as he buries himself to the hilt between her legs with another solid thrust. Still not used to the feel of him, the fullness, he can tell by the way her body tenses in response to his size…and yet she wants this…wants him like this.

Her hands are in his hair, clutching him to her breasts. “You’re a beautiful beast, Ronon…” she gasps. “This is what you’re built for!”

“Shut up, woman!”

He can feel her knuckles brushing against his belly as she uses her hand to work for her own end. The tension in his gut against the motion of her hand is enough to push him harder. Sweat drips down his back from under his hair; his shirt and pants drenched from exertion. She means so little to him he never bothered to reveal more than his pulsing cock.

Moving fast and furious, the desk shakes and squeaks against the onslaught of power. Dr. Wilkes is no match for him as he continues bombarding her with his thick, steel dick. She pants with exhaustion while he still has energy to burn.

She will burn with him.

He lifts her ankles to his shoulders, grasps her hips and pulls her against him as he shoves forth. The slap of bare skin on skin is only diminished by her cries -– a mixture of pleasure and pain -– and his grunts -– a mixture of pleasure and rage.

She uses him so he will use her to sate his needs and he does not give a damn about hers. More than he needs to get off, he needs to forget. He will fuck her to his end and he will not look back when he leaves.

He presses his weight on top of her again, bringing her legs with him. The angle, flexibility is difficult for her, he can see the wince flicker across her face but he does not stop moving, does not stop thrusting. He bites a nipple as he pinches the opposite harder than necessary and she screams. A thrill surges straight to his cock and he knows he is close now. Switching sides, he does the same thing and she screams again. He is hurting her and it is bringing him closer to his release. That should disturb him, but all he cares about is shoving himself as deep as possible into her willing body. The pleasure of taking her without giving, using her as nothing more than a substitute for his own hand is incredible.

Punishing her for not being the one he truly wants.

Pushing her knees against her shoulders, Ronon slams into her even harder than before. He grasps both breasts and squeezes, pinching the nipples until she whimpers in pain only to tremble with intense pleasure a moment later. Her hot juices flow as her insides clench around him, holding tight…he rides through her release, ignoring it… so close to his own.

He looks into her wide eyes. She whimpers as he pulls out and repeatedly shoves back in brutally, angrily as he growls: “Don’t–ever–speak–of Alessa–like that–again!”

Tears slip over her temples as she trembles once more, her body quaking through another orgasm. Ronon’s eyes roll back into his head as he shudders through his bitter release with a howl cut off by clenched teeth.

Ronon pulls away from her and straightens himself. Nothing has changed. Still in a rotten mood. In fact, he feels even worse now. Defiled somehow. He wants a shower. Wants to wash away this… female.

She lays there, exhausted, her legs down but still spread for him to see and she stares at him with those wide eyes. “God you’re amazing,” she sighs.

“Come to me again and I will only punish you further.”

“I look forward to it.”

Shaking his head, he palms the door control. He will never understand these Earth women.

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Sheppard finds him in the mess hall, pushing food around his plate, not really bothering to eat it. The Colonel sits opposite him, his own tray clanking on the table. Hiss boss is obviously not happy. “Wilcox has two cracked ribs.”

The guilt over hurting the young soldier is enough to kill his appetite altogether. “Sorry.”

“You should be,” Sheppard says coolly. Silence stretches between the two as Sheppard starts to eat and Ronon picks at his own food. “I want you to talk with Heightmeyer.” Ronon looks up sharply, glaring at Sheppard but the man holds his gaze without backing down. “Something’s up with you. And I’m guessing it has to do with a certain lady scientist who’s been holed up in her quarters for the past couple of weeks.”

“It is nothing.”

“If that was the case, you wouldn’t be walking around the city looking for a fight every second of every day.” Sheppard sighs. “Let me take a stab here. She shot you down.” Ronon just stares at him. “You told her how you feel and she gave the ‘let’s be friends’ speech. Am I right?”

Ronon grumbles an affirmative, shoving food into his mouth. He cannot swallow around the lump in his throat so he downs half his glass of water.

“I’m sorry man,” Sheppard says. “It sucks, I know.”

“What could you know! You have no honor when it comes to women. Chasing after every one of them that smiles in your direction.”

Sheppard’s ire rises and his teeth clench. “For your information, I happen to have very strong feelings for someone who… let’s just say I can’t even imagine going a day without seeing her… but I can’t. No, I _won’t_ give in to those feelings because it could screw everything up. Emotions compromise people. We have a close knit group here, Ronon. We live and breathe each other everyday with the threat of dying every other day. Sometimes you have to give up something you want just to ensure the survival of the whole.”

“Then what is the point, Sheppard? If you live that way… giving up what means the most to you… then you are living as though already dead.” With that Ronon shoves away from the table and stomps out of the mess.

As he storms down the corridor, letting the anger wash over him, Ronon realizes he has been doing exactly what he told Sheppard: behaving as if he is already dead because he has given up. He cannot live like this. He cannot give his heart to Alessa and not fight to get hers in return. She claims they have no future… that she is not what he needs. He will have to prove her wrong.

But how can he do that? How can he make her realize she belongs with him? That they belong to each other?

He is going to need help.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Ronon finds Dr. Beckett as expected, in his infirmary office. He leans against the door frame, crossing his arms. The doctor raises his gaze up from the computer and locks it onto Ronon; there is heat in it. “Bringing me more injured soldiers?”

He hangs his head, shaking it. “Sorry about that.”

“Not me you should be apologizing to now is it.” Beckett returns his attention to the laptop.

The silence is thick with anger. Ronon ignores it. If he has any chance of getting through to Alessa, he is going to need Beckett’s help. From hearing Alessa talk, Beckett is not only a good man but a close friend. Probably the one person who knows her better than anyone. “How is Dr. D’Angelos?”

Beckett stops working on his computer and stares at Ronon for a long while, as if he is trying to read the ex-runner’s mind. “Not too well, I’m afraid.”

Ronon steps into the office. “Has something happened?”

“Nothing specific. She’s not healing as quickly as I’d hoped. I mean, her sutures are removed and the wounds are on schedule…”

“What then?”

“The poor lass has no energy. She’s locked herself away in her quarters like a hermit. She needs exercise – walking at the very least – to get her strength back up, but…”

“I do not understand.”

Beckett shakes his head. “She’s depressed, son. I can’t tell you more than that without breaking patient privilege.” He tilts his head, considering Ronon. “Maybe you can help me. Has she said anything?”

“Why ask me?”

“Well… you two… I mean, I know how close she feels to you…”

Ronon drops his gaze to the floor. “She does not feel close to me, doctor. She does not feel anything for me.”

“Bloody hell she doesn’t!” His outburst snaps Ronon’s head back up and the two men lock eyes. “She’s head over heels for you, son.” Beckett is out of his seat in a shot. “Did you do something? Say something to hurt her—”

“Never! I…” Ronon takes a deep breath. “She told me we cannot be together.”

Beckett is confused. “She what?”

Ronon exhales heavily. He has not said the words to anyone else. But if he wants Beckett’s help, he is going to have to make his intentions clear. “I told her I love her.” Beckett’s mouth opens and closes like a dying fish. Ronon shrugs. “She said we do not have a future…” he shakes his head sadly. “She does not want me. I was hoping you might…”

His face pales and his eyes widen. “When was this?”

“The day she was released to her quarters.”

Beckett slaps his forehead then runs his hand through his short hair. “Good Lord.” He sighs, shaking his head. “The day you called for the medical emergency.”

Ronon is ashamed he did not try to help her, but he could not face her after that. “Was it bad?”

Beckett shakes his head. “No emergency. I got to her quarters and she was sitting on the floor… crying. I thought she was in pain…” He looks at Ronon again. “But it wasn’t physical, now was it.” He stares hard at the man. “You truly love her?”

“With all my heart. We… there is something… we belong together.” Ronon does not know any other way to explain how connected he feels to Alessa so he tells the doctor about the shower visit. “I do not believe it was a dream.”

“Aye. I’ve heard stories of visitations… not as intimate as yours, I must say. I can understand you’d want it to be…”

“It was real. It is real.” Ronon hugs himself. “She did not believe either. But I know it happened. I know she came to me. We are meant to be together… always.”

Beckett’s look is wary. “No matter what?” Ronon raises his brows in question and Beckett continues. “Is there anything that would keep you from being with her… any reason you can think of that would make you stop loving her?”

“If she does not love me then I will have no choice.”

“No other reason?”

“What possible reason could there be?”

Beckett bites his bottom lip. He is close to telling Ronon something. Something he is probably not supposed to tell anyone. Sheppard explained about the doctor-patient confidentiality. Ronon understands the need for privacy in such matters. But if there is something wrong with Alessa, Ronon wants to know. He has to know. He will be with her no matter what, for as long as he can. He steps further into the office, hovering over the smaller man. “What is wrong with her?”

Beckett waves a hand, turning and pacing in his small office. “It’s…”

“Is it because she has never been with a man before?” Ronon blurts out.

Beckett spins on him. “She told you?”

“She did not have to. Males clearly make her nervous in a specific manner. And they do not realize it, but she has an effect on them as well.”

“You mean the accidents?”

“Because they do not see her. She is a non-entity… I have learned much about Earth customs and interactions between the men and women. Watching Sheppard has been very educational.”

“Col. Sheppard? Ah, yes…” Beckett shakes his head. “I still don’t understand how you knew about Alessa. I don’t see her as any different from other women here.”

“But you do _see_ her. She is more to you because you are friends. Perhaps it is my heritage. Females unknown to man on Sateda were … easily recognized. Coveted. But also protected. It was always the woman who chose when and with whom to mate. Females determine the future of life. If a male was chosen by an untouched female… the purity of heart and soul was passed onto such a man. It was… it _is_ a blessing.”

Beckett’s wide eyes sparkle with interest. “And this is how you know about Alessa? You saw it in her?”

“Yes. Perhaps that is why she relaxed around me rather quickly.”

A soft smile of understanding spreads across the doctor’s face. “Only you?”

“Well, Kavanaugh does not have the effect on her… except to make her tense with anger.”

“He has that effect on most people. But her reaction to you is very interesting.” He looks at Ronon again. “I believe you are the first man to really understand her. To see her.”

“Aside from you.”

“I’ve known her for years, Ronon. It took a long time for Alessa to open up to me. But I saw the effect she has on you early on. I was hoping she would be receptive…” He shakes his head again. “She’s been alone so long. Because of her age, and her lack of experience with romance, I knew it would make it more difficult for her to believe…” he stops. “She’s afraid, Ronon. Afraid now more than ever.”

“Why?”

“Because of the injuries.” He bites his lip again. “She doesn’t believe she has anything to offer you.”

“She is the only one I want.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, lad? A woman like Alessa… she has no sense of her own self worth… physically speaking. She’s a brilliant woman and she knows this… accepts it. I don't pretend to know the standards out in the Pegasus Galaxy when it comes to attraction, but on Earth… it can be a rather harsh place. Difficult to find someone who doesn’t judge by appearance alone. She can’t understand how a man… any man, but especially one who looks like you, could be attracted to her. Let alone fall in love with her.”

“But she is beautiful—”

“Aye. Inside and out. But she doesn’t believe that. And I’m sorry to say, she may never. She’s been conditioned, you see. Told too many times throughout her life by others she trusted that she only has her mind, that she isn’t special otherwise. She feels she has to be able to give something more… and she may not be able to do that… now.”

Ronon shakes his head. “More? I do not understand. Does she love me?”

“Aye. I believe she does. Before the surgery…she said some things. Ramblings really. I didn’t have the time to listen but I’ve heard such things before. From Sheppard actually. He’s been close to dying on occasion if you haven’t noticed. Whenever he’s weakest he calls for… _her_.”

Ronon’s curiosity about Sheppard’s mysterious love is over-shadowed by the thumping of his own heart. The man who knows Alessa better than she knows herself believes she loves Ronon. “She only needs to give me her heart, Carson.” Using the man’s first name may be an intrusion, but he feels closer to the doctor than ever before. They are becoming confidantes. But he still needs him to open up, reveal what he does not want to tell. Break that oath so that Ronon has a chance to win Alessa over. “What is she afraid of now? Please… I must know.”

Beckett paces for several minutes, alternately rubbing his hands together or over his neck. He crosses and uncrosses his arms. With a heavy sigh, he yanks open a drawer in his desk and pulls out a bottle. He uncaps it and takes a gulp before returning it to the drawer. “You must understand how… I can’t…”

“Tell me.”

He rubs his eyes, refusing to look at Ronon as he speaks. His voice is quiet, almost a whisper. Revealing this information is possibly the hardest thing the doctor has ever done. And yet, he must know it is for the best, otherwise he would not. “The puncture wound… the other organ injured … was her womb.” Finally he looks up at Ronon with weary eyes. “There’s a possibility… even a probability that…”

Ronon’s heart flutters with pain. Not for him, but for Alessa. This is why she pushed him away. This is the reason behind her belief they have no future. “She will not have children…?”

 _“I can’t be what you need.”_ She believes he _needs_ a family… off-spring. And the thought of not being able to give him such a gift…

It must have broken her spirit.

Ronon rests a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“If she knows I told you…”

“That will not happen. She will admit it to me herself.”

Beckett shakes his head. “I highly doubt that, son. You must have seen by now she keeps thing inside. Locked away.”

Ronon raises his brows. “If I am strong enough… I can break through.”

“Are you?” Beckett’s eyes narrow. “Are you willing to risk not having a family?”

“I have lived my life fighting the Wraith. There are no guarantees about tomorrow. Only today matters. Alessa needs to understand this. My happiness is from what her heart can give me, not her body.” Though, he does plan on making sure she understands what kinds of pleasure he can incite in her body. She has been alone and Ronon is going to make her understand why.

She has been waiting for him.

And she has him. All of him.

Now all he has to do is convince her of this.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Ronon presses his hands into the door, leaning forward, hanging his head and taking deep breaths. After several moments, he straightens and waves a hand in front of the controller. All he can do is wait.

He knows she is expecting Dr. Beckett, so Alessa opens the door without asking who it is. Ronon’s heart leaps into his throat the moment he sees her. She is small and fragile in a blue T-shirt and black shorts but unbelievably gorgeous and innocent. The silky dark hair that usually skims her jaw line is pulled back into a little ponytail and her face if free of the glasses. Her eyes sparkle for an instant when she gasps: “Ronon.”

His body urges him to wrap her up in his arms, take her to bed and show her how much he loves her. But this is not the time. Aside from Beckett’s insistence that four weeks post-surgery is not enough time for Alessa to be physically intimate, Ronon knows she is not ready to accept his love either. He told the doctor as much. Together they came up with an alternative to Ronon simply stomping into Alessa’s quarters and trying to seduce her into acceptance.

He will have to prove to her that she can trust him with her heart. Not exactly sure how to go about this… but even if it takes a lifetime, he is going to try. Sheppard was right about one thing the other day: not seeing her is worse than anything. Just being in her presence for a few seconds has wiped away two and a half weeks of anguish. He can actually feel his heart growing inside, expanding with his love for her.

Ronon leans his back against the door frame to keep it from closing. “Dr. Beckett says you are not getting better.”

She turns from him, pulling at the hem of her T-shirt. “I’m fine.” That is a lie if he ever heard one. He can see how slow she is moving. Her shoulders droop and she is hunched over slightly. She has lost weight as well.

“Get your shoes on.”

Alessa turns back to him, her eyes wide. “What?”

Ronon sighs. “I have been put in charge of your recovery.”

She takes a little step back. “I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Beckett says you need exercise. Rehabilitation. He has put me in charge of it.”

She sits on the edge of her bed, still playing with her shirt. Her eyes drop to her fingers. “Why you?”

“He gave me a list of reasons, do you want hear them?”

She shrugs. “How ‘bout just the top five.”

“We are friends.”

Her gaze locks on his. “We are?” He just stares at her, so she adds: “What are the other reasons?”

“You said the top five. I already told you.” This gets him a small grin just before she drops her eyes away. “So,” he starts. “Shoes. Now.”

“This… maybe we shouldn’t.”

“If you do not trust me—”

She looks at him. “Of course I do!” And Ronon’s heart thuds. He wants to smile, rush in and kiss her, but he cannot. He has to hold back. “I just thought…” she drops her eyes again. “I thought you hated me… because of…”

Ronon takes the opportunity to move. Unable to remain stoic and stand-offish. He has to touch her now. He kneels in front of her and lifts her chin so she looks at him. He smiles tenderly. “I could never hate you.” Absently the back of his hand skims her chin. He revels in the smooth skin.

Her eyes sparkle with a light sheen of tears and she smiles on a hard sigh, nodding. Sliding off the bed and away from him, Alessa opens her wardrobe. “Where are we going?”

Ronon stands, crossing his arms again and putting his emotions aside. “The mess hall.”

“Oh…” her hand shoots to her hair then she looks down at her clothes. “I’m not dressed for public.”

“You look–” he is about to say beautiful but catches it in time. “Fine. Besides, it is between meal times, there will not be many people there anyway.”

Her shoulders straighten a little. “All right.” She slides her feet into sandals. “Let me get my glasses.”

“No.” That stops her on the way to the bathroom. She looks at with confusion and a bit of fear in her eyes. “We both know you do not need them.”

“Ronon--”

“Alessa. You do not need to hide.” He holds out a hand. “Come with me…as you are.” He sees the internal struggle play out on her face as her eyes dart to the bathroom then to him and back to the bathroom. Alessa takes a deep breath and holds it. She reaches for Ronon’s hand, gripping it as firmly as she can and lets him lead the way out of the room.

She takes small, delicate steps; her teeth clench. Ronon links his arm with hers, still gripping her hand. “Lean on me.” She does as he says. He matches her movements to keep a steady pace.

The short walk to the transporter takes nearly five minutes and by that time, her legs shake and arm trembles against his. “Shit,” she hisses.

“See what happens when you lay around all day long being lazy.”

“Hello, surgery… pain.”

“Dr. Beckett’s words, not mine.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ronon presses the transporter map. Instantly they are relocated to the other side of the city and emerge in the corridor leading to the mess hall. Again it is a short walk -- normally.

“Give me a sec,” she says leaning on him.

As they wait, several people pass by, some soldiers and some civilians. Lt. Cadman waves to Ronon then: “Dr. D’Angelos. It’s good to see you up and around. How are you feeling?”

Alessa looks to Ronon with wide eyes before speaking to Cadman. “Better. Thank you.”

“Well… you look great. If this guy gets on your nerves give me a holler, okay?”

“Umm. Sure. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

Ronon grins at Cadman and she winks at him as she passes by. Lt. Cadman is one of the females in the city that Ronon has never bedded and he knew from the moment he met her he never would. Unlike the ones who have taken to him in the past, she does not look at him in the same manner as Sacks, Nichols or especially Wilkes… she does look at Beckett that way, however.

“Ronon who’s your new…” Sheppard’s feet halt before the rest of his body and he has to shuffle forward or fall over. “…friend? Dr. D’Angelos?” He grins, chuckling slightly with embarrassment. “I… didn’t recognize you. You’re all… casual.”

Alessa’s fear returns and she nearly falls away from Ronon trying to reach the transporter, but he holds her close. “I…ummm…” she punches Ronon in the arm lightly. “I should have changed,” she hisses.

Sheppard holds up both hands. “No… I didn’t mean… you look fine, really. I just… did you get contacts or…” Ronon shakes his head minutely and Sheppard gets the message. “It’s great to see you up and around. Ronon’s been crazy –”

“Sheppard are you heading into the mess?” Ronon asks quickly, cutting the Colonel off. Not that it matters, he can feel Alessa’s eyes on him instantly and senses her pulling away.

“Uh. No, actually. On my way to Dr. Weir’s office.” He motions to the mess. “Go. Enjoy. I believe it’s blue Jell-O day.”

Ronon grins at Alessa. “My favorite.”

“Mine too,” she grins in return.

“I know.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~

By the time they make it back to the transporter after eating, Alessa is near exhaustion. Her arms and legs tremble to keep moving. Whenever she blinks, it is so heavy, he is sure she will fall asleep standing up.

They did not speak much during the meal; it felt as if stepping back in time; Ronon watched her eating and occasionally she glanced up at him and grinned shyly.

Her appetite is smaller now and there are limits on what she can eat for the time being. Beckett was very specific about what she could and could not ingest. She did not seem to mind… her attention was on the few people milling around the mess hall. Several stopped by the table to say hello and ask how she was feeling. Alessa was shocked by all the attention, even in its limited numbers, but Ronon could tell it made her feel welcomed like never before.

“Thanks,” she sighs as they step onto the transporter, her weight practically all on him.

“For what?”

“Having people talk to me.”

Ronon looks her squarely in the eyes so she can see he is telling the truth. “I did not do anything. People care about you, Alessa. You just have to give them a chance to show it.”

Her stunned expression is so vulnerable. “You had to’ve done or said something.”

He leads the way down the hall, one step at a time. “Not me.” He is not about to tell her that Dr. Beckett had a few choice words for some people in the city, namely Dr. Weir and Col. Sheppard, who in turn had something to say to others. Ronon is pretty sure Lt. Cadman’s appearance at the transporter earlier was not a coincidence either since it was Carson’s idea for them to go to the mess hall.

Silently he thanks the Scotsman for whatever he said that opened people’s eyes. Even the slightest compliment from a practical stranger in the mess left Alessa smiling and blushing. It made her eyes sparkle with life. A sparkle that had only been for him before… but he can accept her having it for others as long as she is happy.

She stumbles half-way down the corridor and they stop. She shakes so badly Ronon picks her up as carefully as possible and carries her the rest of the way to her quarters. Without complaint she rests her head against his shoulder.

Gently laying her down on her bed, he slips the shoes off her feet and pulls the blankets up to her shoulders. She reaches for her pain medication but he taps the back of her hand. “Relax. Let me.” Carson told him how much she is supposed to take and when. He gets a glass of water from the bathroom and hands it to her as he sits on the bed at her side. Then he doles out her medication.

Alessa swallows her pills and hands the glass back to him. Ronon sets it aside and takes her hand. “Time to rest.”

“No shit… really?” She giggles lightly, cringing as before. “Damn that still hurts.”

“Then do not do it.”

She looks at him but her eyes are already closing, losing focus. “Thanks for still being my friend, Ronon.”

He smiles, giving her hand a squeeze. “Always.”

Her smile is soft, sleepy and her eyes close. He does not move or release her hand. But he does caress her cheek with his fingertips. She sighs in her almost-sleep. “I missed you.”

Ronon’s breath catches. He can feel tears rising but fights them. He will not break. Not now. He sits there, watching her fall deeper into sleep, each breath becoming slow and steady. After several minutes he leans forward and kisses her lips lightly, barely a touch so she does n’ot wake. “I love you,” he whispers against her mouth, then pulls away.

He hears a soft, dreamy: “Okay.” Then she rolls over and her hand slips from his.

Ronon leaves feeling his heart beating hard in his chest.

It is a start.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

Their routine is almost identical to before, only Ronon never leads her to the lab. In the morning he arrives at her door and escorts her –- slowly for a time –- to the mess hall. And every morning he does the same thing before they leave her quarters: removes the glasses from her face and sets them on the desk then takes her hand and leads her out. By the fifth day, she stops bothering to put them on at all.

After breakfast, they return to her quarters so she can rest for a few hours before he takes her to the gym for exercise. The light workout assigned by Dr. Beckett includes stretches and limited stress on her abdominal muscles, though he does require her to do a few sets of minimal ‘crunches’. The first time she manages three sets of one.

Following the exercises, they go to the mess for lunch. Alessa’s appetite slowly improves, though she is still not permitted certain foods and is going into withdrawals craving a hamburger and French fries. Ronon can only smile at her grumbles; a clear sign she is feeling better.

After lunch they return to her quarters so she can rest again or shower whichever she chooses. Most of the time he returns later to take her to dinner and she is lying on her bed reading one of the many novels Lt. Cadman brought back from Earth. Alessa cannot seem to get enough of the stories. She simply loves the lead character: a young woman who becomes a bounty hunter because she needs money and cannot find any other job. Occasionally he arrives to hear her laughing out loud at something she just read and the delight on her face makes his heart race.

The first time Ronon goes off-world, he and Carson determine the best person to take over the rehabilitation would be someone who might share an interest with Alessa: Laura Cadman. It only takes one afternoon for the two women to bond over the novels before they become inseparable. Ronon would often catch them talking about some dangerous incident only to realize it actually took place in one of the books.

After missing out on being with her all day because of a mission, Ronon arrives at Alessa’s door ready to take her to dinner only to find her gone. He goes to the mess hall anyway, spotting Alessa at a table with Laura, laughing over a page in one of the books. He is grateful she is having fun… but he misses her so much and was really looking forward to spending a quiet dinner just watching over her.

Eight weeks have passed since her surgery. Four since he came to her with his offer of friendship…and nothing more. Every night for the first week she would fall asleep after the evening meal completely exhausted from her exercises and pain medication. Ronon would sit with her until he knew she was out and then he would kiss her lips as he had that first night and tell her he loves her.

The rest of the time he would restrain himself. It did not take long for them to fall back into their previous pattern or for Alessa to relax around him again. It is familiar and comfortable.

But not enough.

Every time he has to go off-world, he feels his heart stop at the thought that she does not realize what she means to him… in case he does not come back.

And now, seeing her in the mess, laughing over a story, he wonders: _what do I mean to her?_ She does not even seem to miss him when he is gone. Does not notice when he returns.

Was Carson wrong?

“Ronon!” His eyes widen when he realizes she is staring right at him. Not only that, she is waving him over. Ronon shakes his head no which only makes her more determined. Alessa comes over to his table, no longer shaky when she walks, and sits facing him. There is something different about her today. Her eyes are more prominent and the color of her lips is making him ache with want.

Laura joins them a moment later and he recognizes the same changes in her. They have painted their faces. Lined their eyes and colored their lips. Not overly done, barely noticeably even. The effect is striking on Cadman but illuminating on Alessa. She is simply beyond beautiful. That ache drops down to his groin when Alessa rests her chin on the back of her hand and stares at him, pouting slightly. “What’s with the glower?”

He wrinkles his brows. “What do you mean?”

She motions to his face by pointing a finger and rotating it in large circles. “Mr. Glum face.”

“Tired. Long day.”

“Any fun?”

He shrugs. “Meet and greet. Boring really.”

“Awe,” Laura starts. “Didn’t get to beat anyone up then I take it?” She raises her brows and smirks.

“Not today.”

“Poor baby.”

Ronon narrows his gaze on the soldier. “Wanna play?”

She laughs. “Nope. I… um.” Her eyes drift between him and Alessa. “I actually have to be going.” She grins. “Hot date.”

“Oh…” Alessa grins in return. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

Laura smiles at Ronon and winks as she leaves. It is obvious that Carson has roped Laura into the conspiracy. But what good will it do if Alessa truly does not want him?

When Laura is gone, Alessa’s hand drops onto his free one. The fork in his other stops halfway to his mouth. Her touch still gets to him. Will always get to him. But she does not even notice. Her eyes are bright and she smiles sweetly. “So…what’s the real deal? What’s up with you?”

Ronon sets his fork down and stares into her eyes. He cannot wait anymore. He has to know. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve left a note on my door—”

“No.” He covers her hand with his other one; his eyes still on hers. “I _missed_ you.”

She blinks. Her eyes widen and her smile falls as her face pales. “Ronon…” She pulls her hand from between his. She is out of her seat and backing away from the table. “I…” she shakes her head. “…can’t…” then she rushes from the mess hall.

She bumps into McKay as he enters, knocking the guy on his ass as she flees. Claps and laughter erupt in the room. “That’s just great!” McKay grumbles.

“At least it is not your head,” Ronon says as he stomps by. He hits the transporter just as Alessa disappears inside. Only one place he knows she will go to hide.

He steps in the corridor, running toward her quarters and makes it to the door as it is closing. He slips inside.

“What… get out.”

“No.”

“Ronon!” Without hesitating, he grabs her hand and pulls her into the bathroom. “What are you—” He gets behind her and turns her to face the mirror. “…doing?”

He points at her reflection. “See that? That is the woman I love.”

She drops her gaze. “Please don’t…”

He makes her face the mirror again. “She is beautiful. Has the most amazing eyes I have ever had the pleasure of looking into.” Alessa tries to turn away again, but he holds her firmly. “Her lips are so kissable it is torture not being able to touch them.”

“It’s just make-up.”

“No. I do not see the paint, Alessa. I see you.”

Tears well up in her eyes. “Why are you doing this?” she whispers.

Ronon turns her to face him so he can look into her eyes for real. “Because I love you and you will not believe me.”

“I…” she pulls away from him and stomps back into her room. “You can’t!”

“I can. And I do! Nothing you say is going to stop it or change it. I love you, Alessa. I always will.”

Her hand shoots up. “Stop saying that.”

“No.”

Shaking her head, she spins on him. “What is this… did you already screw all the other women in the city and I’m the last on your to-do list? Or is there some new pool going on I don’t know about?”

“Why do you not believe me?”

“As you pointed out, I have eyes, Ronon. And I see what’s real! There is no way this is real. It can’t be.”

“You think would lying?”

“No…I… don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” He grabs her by the shoulders rather roughly and gives her a slight shake. “Tell me you do not love me.”

“Ronon…” she looks at the floor.

He lifts her chin with gentle fingers. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you do not love me, Alessa, and I will walk out that door and never bother you again.”

“We can’t be together.”

“Not what I told you to tell me.”

The tears finally fall as she looks him squarely in the eyes. “I…”

Ronon raises his brows, waiting. She simply stares at him, tears rolling down her face, unable to say anything more. Smiling, Ronon wraps his arms around her, lifting her up and kisses her. The moment his lips touch hers, she sobs lightly but her arms go around his neck. It is a gentle kiss, like before. Tender and innocent until Ronon tickles her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. She gasps and her lips part giving him entry. He keeps it subtle, just wanting to taste her for a moment.

And a moment is all he gets because she pulls away and pushes both hands against his chest so he releases her. She steps back, a shaky hand covering her mouth, her eyes closing tight. “I wish I didn’t,” she murmurs.

“What?”

She does look at him then. “Love you.”

Ronon reaches for her but she backs up again, her hip hitting the edge of the desk. “I will not hurt you.”

“Yes… you will.” Alessa shakes her head sadly. “I… I’ve seen the women you’ve been with, Ronon. I’m not like them… not even close.”

“I know. They cannot touch you. They are nothing compared to you.”

Alessa hides her face in her hands and takes deep breaths before dropping her hands and looking at him again. “How can you stand there and say that? I know what I see in the mirror.” She exhales hard. “And you’re… whatever it is you feel for me… you’ll get bored and the first pretty woman who comes along—”

Ronon towers over her, keeping her locked in place against the desk. “You are the most beautiful creature in this or any other galaxy. I do not know how to get you to understand.” He bends his knees so that they are closer in height. “I love _you_. I want _you_ … I would never be happy with anyone else. Do you not see that? You must feel that I am telling the truth?”

Shocked by his declaration, she heaves another sob. “But—”

He cups her face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “There will never be anyone for me, but you. These eyes. Lips. This amazing, soft hair.” He reaches down and picks up her hand, bringing it to his lips. “These fingers and hands.” He stares at her again. “Remember the cave. I meant what I said. You are meant to stay with me… always.” Alessa shakes her head. “Can you not see me? I mean really see what you have taken from me?”

“What I’ve…?”

“My heart, Alessa. You have it. I cannot take it back. I do not want to take it back. It is yours forever. And my spirit cries out for you. Just as yours did for me. You came to me. I know you do not believe me… do not remember. But it is true. Our spirits are one with each other. We are meant to be together.” He leans in to kiss her again. “Please… do not be afraid to love me.”

She turns away and his lips land on her cheek. “I… I can’t be what…”

“Yes. You can. I only want… need you. Nothing else. Just tell me you love me and that will be enough.”

She sniffs and starts to weep. The tears rush from her eyes in a never-ending stream of pain. “I never wanted this to happen. Never thought it could. Not to me. I was perfectly willing to be alone… I accepted that’s how I was supposed to be…But then you…Oh God, Ronon,” she looks him in the eyes, hers flooded with tears. “I do love you. I love you so much… that’s why I can’t be with you.”

“That does not make sense.”

She tries to get free from him but he will not budge. With a deep breath she confesses. “It’s because of the injury… I probably… most likely can’t have children.” She presses her hand to his cheek and he leans into it involuntarily, it is just so warm and soft, he cannot help it. “I have nothing to give you.”

Ronon wraps his arms around her again, this time pulling her against his chest and hugging her close. She buries her face in his shirt and cries until she cannot breathe. Ronon guides her to the bed and sits her down before kneeling in front of her. Once again, he wipes her tears away, only to have more fall silently. He leans in and kisses her, first one corner of her mouth then the other before claiming her lips full on. She lets him, kisses him back even. He pulls back, stroking her cheek. “You love me?” Alessa nods, sniffing. “Then I already have everything I need.”

“But—”

“I have been alone for seven years, Alessa. Running, living day-to-day, just surviving.” He holds her gaze, feeling tears in his own eyes. “But I was not alive. Not until I met you.” She sucks in a deep breath and sighs. Ronon lets his tears fall, allowing her to see this weakness, knowing how important it is that she _sees_ him. “When I had to cut you… I… it nearly killed me. In the cave, your pain was my pain. I felt it all, every bit of it as if I had been injured. And when you… died…” he closes his eyes at the thought and more tears slip down his face. “You came to me. I know you did because I felt it just as I felt your pain. You and I are one. Heart and spirit. We are family now. There is nothing to keep us apart. And if you try, I will fight you.” He smiles through his tears. “And I will win.”

“Ronon—”

He cuts her off with another kiss. He tastes her tears and wants to wash them away with his tongue on hers. She is inexperienced with kissing, but he adores that about her. Loves that she will learn from him, with him. He has wanted this for so long, he cannot stop, does not ever want to stop kissing her, tasting her. Her lips are so soft and pliant, yielding for him. He nibbles on the thick bottom one, tugging on it, teasing. Her breath hitches and Ronon pushes for more, deepening, exploring her mouth as his passion rises. He runs his fingers into her hair and the feel of it sends him into a frenzy of desire. His pants tighten. She moans as he maneuvers her closer, bending her back until she is lying on the bed and he is hovering over her side, rubbing his trapped erection against her leg.

Finally, desperate for breath, he breaks off, pressing his forehead to hers. “I want you, Alessa. I have wanted you for so long.”

She rolls away, sliding off the bed in an instant, standing and hugging her arms around her protectively. “That’s… uh.” Clearly embarrassed, she refuses to look at him. Ronon sits on the edge of the bed, letting his hands rest on his knees, trying to stifle a groan at the painful constriction in his pants. She starts pacing a little. “I’m not …”

“I know your secret.”

She stops suddenly and stares at him wide-eyed. “What secret?”

Ronon raises his brows and smiles affectionately at her. “You are untouched.”

“What!” The look on her face is a mixture of incredulity and horror. “I am not… well… I mean… Okay, technically…” She starts to pace again. “I’ve had sex,” she says abruptly and Ronon’s brows knit together. Her hands flutter in the air as she continues. “It’s just that… well, um…” She stops with a heavy exhale and looks him in the eyes. “I just haven’t had it with an actual… person… is all.”

Ronon feels his face contorting as he tries to understand what she just said. But he cannot and he shakes his head. “What?”

Alessa drops onto the edge of the bed right next to him and folds her hands between her knees. “I’m thirty-two, Ronon. I’ve known about orgasms since I was ten… and…”

He chuckles lightly, delighted and even more turned on. “You know how to please yourself.”

She does not look at him and the blush turns a brighter shade of red. “Even have help… of a mechanical kind.” She glances at him only to look away quickly. “So… technically… I mean, physically technically… I’m not a virgin.”

“Show me.”

She is off the bed in a flash. “What?”

He is up and in front of her again, resting his hands on her shoulders and gently smoothing them up and down her arms. She shivers from the contact and he smiles, loving that he can elicit such things from her now. “Show me what pleasures you.”

Alessa sucks in a deep breath and shakes her head. “Oh…nonononono… I couldn’t… I mean that’s…”

Ronon kisses her gently. He looks into her eyes. “Then let me pleasure you.”

Alessa bites her bottom lip, but holds his gaze for a long time. Then in a soft, almost non-existent whisper, says: “Okay.”

He leans in to kiss her again when she suddenly holds up both hands: “Wait!”

“What is wrong?”

“Just… give me a minute.” She turns from him and goes to the desk where she pulls out a large candle and lights it with one of the Athosian torches. Then she turns off the lights.

“I want to see you,” Ronon grumbles.

Alessa coughs, giggling slightly. “Candlelight is flattering to everyone, Ronon.” She stands in front of him again, the golden light flickering over her dark hair. “I… I’m…”

He brushes the hair behind her ear so he can see her face. “Nervous?”

She giggles again, dropping her eyes to her fidgeting hands. “Terrified.”

Ronon pulls her close, lifting her up onto her toes and pressing her to his body. Soft and supple, she melts against his hard muscle. “Trust me.”

The candlelight dances in her eyes as she locks onto his gaze. “With my life.” This time she kisses him, tentatively, innocently. Her soft moan of pleasure sends shocks straight to his already tight groin. His need for her is almost overwhelming.

Ronon scoops her up and carries her to the bed, laying them both down without breaking the kiss. He hovers over her side, letting his hands play along her body, mildly fondling atop her clothes. She trembles as his fingers skim the side of her breast but it is offset by the building passion he feels in her kiss.

He finds the hem of her shirt, letting his fingertips dance across her exposed skin, making her shiver again. Her soft flesh is calling to him to take more, explore more. Slowly, he pushes her shirt up, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over her head. Alessa gasps when he cups both her breasts in his large hands, playing his thumbs over the lace of the undergarment.

Ronon leaves her mouth, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her throat to that tendon in her neck. His kiss is hot and firm there and with a moan, she turns her head away, exposing more to his mouth. He always knew her neck and shoulders would be her sweet spot. All the tension she holds there every day just begging for loving attention. “Ronon,” she pants, arching into his hands as he continues lavishing caress after caress on her full bosom.

He makes his way down further, pressing his lips onto the swollen flesh above his hands. Pulling back slightly so he can see as much of her as possible in the dim light, Ronon finds the clasp and releases her beautiful mounds. They’re taught with desire, heaving with every breath. He pushes the garment up over her head only to wrap it around her wrists, binding them together.

“What…?”

Ronon grins up at her and the confusion in her eyes melts. “Do not worry about doing anything. Just feel. Feel me.”

She nods slowly. Her wrists are not bound so tight that she cannot break free if she wants. It is only an incentive for her to relax and enjoy. She is still nervous, he can tell. Afraid she will not be able to please him and that makes his heart hurt for her. She has no idea, no understanding that just being here, touching her, loving her makes him happier than anything in his life.

He will make her understand. With every kiss, every suckle and touch, that she pleases him to the ends of the world. Because she loves him. And she is letting him love her.

With slow, careful moves, he divests Alessa of the remainder of her clothes, leaving her vulnerable and naked before his eyes. She trembles with uncertainty, her eyes full of worry, afraid he does not like what he sees. Ronon kisses her warm cheek then takes her lips in his again before pressing his forehead to hers. “You are truly beautiful, Alessa. Believe that.” Her body quivers under his scrutiny, but she smiles softly, releasing a held breath.

Ronon quickly sheds his own clothes then lies down beside her once again. She remains on her back as he lies on his side, one hand sifting through her hair as he draws the other down her body, learning every curve, enjoying the supple texture. “I have wanted to touch you for so long.” He leans down and kisses her again. “I hope you do not mind if I take my time.”

Alessa giggles. “Oh…um…not really.” He can see fresh tears in her eyes but he knows they are from happiness now.

They kiss again, slow and sensual as Ronon’s hand explores: cupping, squeezing, fingertips dancing along her body eliciting mewls filled with yearning for more. He rolls closer, letting his hard length press into her thigh and she gasps at the feel of it. “See what you do to me?” he asks breathlessly against her ear as he kisses his way down the other side of her neck to the opposite tendon. She arches into his hand again, moaning as his thumb flicks over the taught nipple.

Ronon works his way down until he finds that nipple with his mouth. He teases with his tongue, suckles it between his lips and grazes it with his teeth. All the while, Alessa wriggles under him, her eyes closed, teeth catching her bottom lip and a groan rumbling from deep within. He sees her hands, still bound, fisting around the lace. He lavishes the same attention on the opposite breast before continuing his explorations further down.

He stops a long line of hot kisses at her belly. Seeing the scar up close for the first time is very jarring. It pushes him back to his fight with the Wraith. He can see himself turning at the sound of her gasp, see her looking at him with that strange expression. He now realizes what it was: acceptance. As if she believed such a thing was inevitable… that she deserved such an injury. He can feel her collapsing into his arms but the harshest memory is his own heart breaking. At that moment, Ronon believed she was dying. If she had…

He runs a fingertip over the scar and Alessa sucks in a deep breath. He glances up, seeing the look in her eyes, the pain of knowing what this injury cost her. While still holding her gaze, Ronon kisses the scar from one end to the other. Her belly flutters under his lips. He abandons the scar, moving lower, but taking his time.

He parts her trembling legs, planting kisses on the inside of each thigh. “Ohmigod!” she pants, knowing what he plans to do to her. Ronon can only grin. He can smell her excitement and the thrill makes him even harder. He bites back the painful need to take her now. He will not give in so soon. Alessa will know so much pleasure before then that she will never regret gifting him with her innocence.

He opens her with his fingers. Lightly running the tips around the outside of her core, feeling how wet she already is. He blows a hot breath onto her sensitive skin and she sucks in an audible breath of her own. Then he finds the spot he wants and takes it into his mouth eagerly. The soft bud firms up with the attention of his tongue and Alessa writhes against him. “Ohhhhh,” she coos.

Ronon drapes her legs over his shoulders and grips her hips to stabilize her because he knows she will not expect what comes next. He teases her opening with the tip of his tongue and she nearly shoots off the bed at the contact, bucking up against his mouth with a stifled cry of pleasure.

With one finger he continues stimulating her as he delves inside her with his tongue, as deep as he can go, lapping at her, tasting her secret self. The knowledge that no other man has ever known her like this sends his mind reeling. So sweet and tender. He is drowning in the scent and feel of her and barely hears her repeating chant of delight: “Ohmigod, ohgodohgodohgod!”

Alessa thrusts her hips against him as she tosses her head back and forth on the pillow, her never-ending chant urging him on until he feels her body shudder and quiver. “Ronon!” she cries and he takes her offering as her body erupts from within. He rides her through the climax, enjoying all her moans of bliss as she comes down from the high. He wipes his mouth on the bed sheet before sliding up along her body again, pressing his hardness against her, letting her know that it is just the beginning. He kisses her long and slow before lying by her side again, one of his legs between hers, keeping them open. “Now…” she gasps. “I know what all the fuss has been about.”

Ronon chuckles and kisses her cheek. He rolls her slightly so that they can face each other. “We are not even close to done yet.”

“Okay,” she breathes.

Another long, slow kiss as he lets his hand travel along her body again, finding her swollen and wet. He fingers her sensitized bud, making her breath catch, but not so much as when he sinks a finger deep inside her core just as he plunges his tongue into her mouth. She gulps back a gasp.

His free hand is overhead, linked with one of hers the entire time as he continues invading her with his fingers, first one then two and finally three, bringing her to another climax. Her body convulses again as more juices flow and she yelps from the intensity.

Suddenly her hands are free of restraint and on his face. Her eyes burrow into his. “Ronon… let’s get on with it.”

“You want—”

She kisses him hard, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth, then breaks away. “I want you… inside me… now.”

“Are you sure.”

She grins and he sees desire in it. “Positive.”

Ronon maneuvers her under him, settling himself between her legs. He refuses to simply take her. Every second of it will be them together… becoming one. Her legs come up around him, making his cock twitch with want. He is so swollen, so hard… but no pain in it. Not now.

Balancing his weight on his forearms, he leans in and kisses her again. Then stares into her eyes as he lowers himself ever so slowly into her. Wet and hot, waiting for him, stretching for him, welcoming and ready. But Ronon wants to watch her accept him, wants to feel her take him in. Inch by inch he gently pushes forward until he sinks all the way, their hips meeting, her legs tightening around him and they both groan at the feel of completeness.

They stay like that for several moments, locked together, staring at each other. Alessa smiles as she traces a finger over his lips. “I love you, Specialist Ronon Dex,” she says in the voice he loves.

Ronon grins, not sure if he can say what he wants around the lump in his throat. He swallows hard. “I love you, Alessandra Calogera Sienna Antonia D’Angelos.”

She lets out a half laugh-half sob and tears slip over her temples.

He raises a brow. “Should I have said doctor first?”

Giggling, Alessa grabs his face and pulls him down for a fierce kiss. It urges him to move and he pulls out. She whimpers at the loss until he pushes back into her and they both groan again. Slow and steady they blend two hearts and bodies. Something neither of them has experienced before, so in a way, Ronon thinks, they are both untouched.

As he pushes within her, Alessa starts to shift and counter him. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself up against him, rubbing her breasts to his chest. It is enough to send his body into overdrive. Ronon drops down on top of her, crushing her into the bed and thrusts harder. She cries out, but not in pain. Alessa captures his shoulder with her teeth as her hands move over his back, squeezing, searching. “Ohgodohgodohhh,” she starts chanting again.

The feel of her surrounding him, clenching him, her heels digging into the back of his thighs increases his speed. He is harder than he has ever been before. He can feel blood pulsing through him, pounding in his ears in time with his thrusts. And she is matching him, grinding her hips into his, letting him in deeper.

She screams another release, clenching him so tight he howls at the pleasure, though he does not reach his destination yet. Rolling over, he pulls her on top of him, resting her on his hips, thrusting up inside her again. Alessa rides him, rocking and grinding, shifting and clenching, her eyes rolling back in her head as she runs her hands over his chest, teasing him with those delicate fingers.

Ronon touches her face and she looks down at him, smiling. She is so beautiful with her hair clinging to her sweat-stained face, her body writhing against him. Her eyes so wide and full of desire it makes his heart thud harder. She leans forward and kisses him then shifts again so that her breasts are dangling in front of his face. He eagerly takes one into his mouth, squeezing the other with his hand. She gasps and moans; it sounds so wonderful his cock surges with heat, feeling even thicker.

Suddenly, to Ronon’s ultimate shock, Alessa rises and drops onto his staff so hard and fast his eyes roll back into his head. They cry out together, Alessa once again repeating her chant and Ronon making no sense whatsoever, simply grunting with the overwhelming sensations.

“Ohyes…yesyesyes!” she shouts. “Ronon!” And she shivers as another orgasm rushes through her body, tightening her around him so hard he cannot control the final powerful thrusts he shoves inside hard and fast as his own release takes hold.

“Alessa!” He explodes hard over and over, filling her with his seed that she cries out again, matching his howl of bliss with her own. She collapses on top of him in a heap; trembling as he wraps his arms around her back and hugging her close. He stays buried deep inside her, not willing to relinquish his place for now. She still pulses around him, still coming down and it feels so good he does not ever want to lose it. He is the only man to ever hold her like this. And if he has his way, he will be the only man who ever does.

Reaching for the blanket, he pulls it over the top of them. She lifts her head wearily and kisses him. “Is it like that all the time?”

Ronon cannot fight the grin. “It will be.” He kisses her in return. “For us.”

She sighs with exhaustion. “Wow.”

He kisses her again then rolls so they are both lying on the bed, face to face, forehead to forehead and fall asleep in each others arms.

* * *


	15. Coda

**_THREE MONTHS LATER…_ **

Elizabeth sits at her desk working on the data burst for the SGC as John wanders in and takes a seat across from her. He drapes an arm over the back, lazily. He’s smirking as usual which tells her immediately that he’s up to something. “What?” she asks, not bothering to meet his gaze.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” he says slyly.

“For what?”

“For what! For saving the city from Hurricane D’Angelos.”

Elizabeth looks up from her work and stares at him, unimpressed. “You want to take credit?”

“Well, it was my idea to put Ronon in charge of her. Have you seen those two? Crazy bunnies if you ask me.”

Elizabeth sighs. “No one asked.”

“Elizabeth, we haven’t had an accident in months. McKay’s brain hasn’t been rattled since before Ronon took on the job. And since they got together, Ronon’s been smiling non-stop…which is kind of scary when you think about it. Plus, no one is walking on eggshells whenever she comes around now. Not even Radner!” He laughs. “She’s really settled in as part of the team.”

“Helps that she got us that ZPM. Now everyone knows how valuable she is… besides me.”

“I know, McKay actually thanked her. Can you believe that? And the teams… the guys she, well, injured. They put together the party for her.”

“I do know what happens in the city, Colonel. What’s your point?”

He pouts at her with puppy eyes and all, wrinkling his brows. “I just think that credit should go where it’s due.”

Elizabeth nods. “You know. You are absolutely correct. I should have done this earlier.”

John smiles until Elizabeth clicks her headset. “Lt. Cadman, this is Weir, could you please come to my office.”

“Cadman? What’s—”

Elizabeth holds up a hand then reaches down to her bottom drawer and hauls out a large paper bag. Laura arrives moments later and Elizabeth hands her the bag. “I believe this is yours.”

Laura’s eyes widen as a huge smile spreads across her face. She opens it and pulls out a two pound bag of Hershey’s kisses. “We all thought you forgot.”

“I don’t welsh,” Elizabeth says firmly, but she can’t hold back the smirk.

“What’s going on?” John asks plaintively.

“Oh,” Elizabeth starts. “You men aren’t the only ones to have betting pools, Colonel.”

“Yeah,” Laura adds. “We women tend to go to the less extreme side of things though. Not wagering on when someone’s gonna get killed and all.”

“And _what_ were you wagering on?”

Elizabeth clears her throat but Laura speaks up. “The cure for Alessa’s… disorder… and who might have it.” She grins, showing off the bag of chocolate. “I won.”

John’s brows furrow even more as he shakes his head. “What?”

Elizabeth tilts her head, talking to him as if he’s a child. “Her klutziness, Colonel.”

“There was a cure?”

Elizabeth and Laura exchange knowing glances and wicked smirks. “Of course,” they say together.

“Well… spill!”

Laura looks to Elizabeth who shakes her head. “Let him figure it out.”

“I wager… two weeks.”

Elizabeth points her pen at Laura. “I’m in for one. He’s not _that_ dense.”

“What’s going on?”

Laura and Elizabeth simply giggle, leaving John to slouch in his chair, drowning in confusion.

 

**_THE END_ **

* * *


End file.
